


Work Friends

by kikifromtheblock



Series: Work Friends [1]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kooks (Outer Banks), Pogues (Outer Banks)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikifromtheblock/pseuds/kikifromtheblock
Summary: Bianca Morales and JJ Maybank have been working together at the Kildare Country Club for about a year now. But JJ doesn’t know that Bianca lives in Figure 8, until she saves him from a few kooks at the most important kook event of the summer.
Relationships: JJ (Outer Banks)/Original Female Character(s), JJ (Outer Banks)/Reader
Series: Work Friends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840423
Comments: 32
Kudos: 51





	1. Lighter Than a Summer Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting my writing so I hope you like it! Constructive criticism is welcome, as are comments. This series was originally posted on Tumblr under kikifromtheblock so you can also read it there :)

“Yes, baby. If you don’t show up, you know how fast rumors will spread around that town about my absence. So, you’re going, okay? It’s summer! Talk to your friends!” My mom’s voice reasoned through the phone. The only way I’d heard it for the past month since she was helping another international client with legal issues. I let out a long sigh and mumbled an okay even though I was already on my way out of the door. I’d known how this conversation would end when I dialed her number, but she didn’t need to know that. 

In truth, I didn’t mind the getting ready part. I liked the figure the shelf neckline of the red silk dress I was wearing gave me. It would be nice to not have to cook dinner for myself and eat it alone, too, and the dessert would be divine. I did mind all the socializing with people I didn’t care about and who didn’t actually care about me. I did mind that this was happening while half the island still didn’t have power. But not enough that I would risk the backlash my mom would get from all the other moms on the island if I didn’t show up to the premiere summer event and smile and ask people how they were doing as if they’d endured any serious hardship after this storm.

“Ok, I have to finish reading this document. Love you, mija.” 

“Love you too,” I said, turning the keys in the ignition. 

It was somewhere around my fifth helping of oysters that I finally worked up the courage to make the rounds I knew my mom would want me to make. She was in London at 9 pm on a Friday night pouring over shoebox-sized legal documents so we could stay afloat. All I had to do was say hi to a few people, accept their compliments, and promise my mom would make it to the next Midsummers. I took a deep breath and approached the first person, Mrs. Simmons, who owned the hotel down the street. The Bellagio of the South in nobody’s mind but hers. 

The sun had set finally, giving my shoulders a break from the oppressive summer heat, and dessert was on its way out when I spotted him. The virgin piña colada I was sipping on as an excuse to not talk caught in my throat at the fluff of blond hair bobbing its way through the crowd. 

Shit. 

JJ Maybank was working tonight. 

I bowed my head immediately, using my long curls as a curtain. “I’m going to go use the restroom. It was nice to catch up with you, Mr. Garrison,” I smiled and dashed away from the dancefloor into the clubhouse. 

It’s not like I didn’t like JJ. He made my waitressing shifts at the clubhouse fly by. He always shared his stolen fries from the kitchen and wanted to know what I thought about everything. Only one problem: the only thing JJ hated more than kooks was serving them, and I didn’t want him to have to serve me. I hated them too for the most part, and sure he’d made an exception for Kiara, but they’d been best friends for a long time. I was just some girl he worked with. We faced the kooks together, and for him to call me “miss” and ask me how he could help me would certainly ruin that. 

So, I ran. 

Once safely upstairs outside the women’s restroom, I wished I would have risked grabbing a slice of berry cake before fleeing. It would’ve been better company than the sound of the middle-aged women discussing the lengths of the teenage girls’ skirts downstairs. Their gossip was quickly interrupted by the sound of pounding feet, though, and suddenly the blond I’d been trying to avoid was leaping over my sandals without bothering to check who I was. Five seconds later five other guys were falling over each other to do the same thing. My stomach dropped at what I knew I had to do. JJ was in trouble and there was no way I was going to let those boys beat him up. I hadn’t expected my first fight to be at the clubhouse, but at least I would be on my home turf. Too bad this was also their turf. 

I pulled up the ends of my gown and darted though the men’s restroom as fast I could. 

I stopped at the end of the hallway to the men’s locker room when I saw them and the oysters crawled their way up my throat. Kelce had JJ in a chokehold while Rafe Cameron was rambling on about how good it would feel to hit him with some convoluted golfing metaphor. I’d known JJ got into fights, but I’d never expected them to be so brutal. Holding him down so four other guys could beat on him while he was helpless? That was low, even for Kelce. 

“Don’t touch him!” I rushed forward and crashed my body into Rafe’s just as he was about to land a punch to JJ’s face. We rolled and hit the wall with a thud. 

“Bianca?” 

“You bitch!” Rafe yanked me up by my arm and throttled me. His skin was beet red like this, and his face pinched together so that he looked like a lion ready to land the killing bite. I thrust my knee up at his crotch. The lion’s roar melted into a groan in an instant. 

“Let go of him, Kelce!” I snapped, stepping away from Rafe but refusing to look JJ in the eye. Jason, a golfer at the club, prepared to rush me, but Rafe stopped him with a hand. 

“Get out of here, Bianca. This isn’t about you,” Kelce snapped. 

“Oh no. Now it’s about her, isn’t that right?” Rafe said, voice too gruff for my liking. I shuffled back. But he grabbed both my shoulders and slammed them into the wall. I couldn’t help the yelp that came out of my throat. 

“Hey, back off! Don’t touch her!” JJ growled, his legs practically spasming as he tried to get out of Kelce’s grip.

“I’m fine, JJ. I’m fine.” I squirmed to get away from Rafe, but he only pulled me closer so that I couldn’t knee him again.

“Oh that’s cute. Real cute. You two know each other!” Rafe exclaimed, looking between us. “Well, guess what, Bianca? You just won front row tickets to his ass-whooping, and maybe you’ll get a fun surprise when the show’s over. How does that sound, huh?” Rafe crushed my cheeks in his hand as he forced me to look at JJ. My breath caught in my throat. The skin around his eye shone deep purple, and his lip had been busted already. 

“JJ,” I whispered. Rafe hadn’t done that. So who had? Now he was the one avoiding my gaze, zeroing in on Rafe instead. 

“Rafe, I’m serious. Leave her out of this!” JJ snarled, knuckles white around Kelce’s forearm. Rafe’s hand squeezed tighter around my waist, and then slithered in a dangerous direction. I let out the slightest whimper and renewed my desperate writhing. 

No. 

No. 

“Rafe Cameron if you fucking touch me I’ll scream so loud security will charge you with first degree murder on the spot. Think your dad will be happy to hear his son ruined his celebration? No. So get. Your Hands. Off me.” I stopped struggling and growled so fiercely everyone else came to a stop. 

“Now!” I snapped, and in a second Rafe had shoved me away. JJ rushed to my side, asking if I was okay. I nodded even though I could still feel the burn of Rafe’s hands through my dress. My heart was still in my throat, but they were still there, looking like they were contemplating grabbing us again.

“Was I not clear?” I asked in a voice like the edge of a knife on stone. Kelce mumbled a come on, man, and finally, they turned to leave.

"Yeah, you Powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ sang. Kelce barely managed to hold Rafe's body back and shove him out the door. I shivered involuntarily and slid down the wall with as much grace as I could manage, which wasn’t really any at all. JJ copied me and breathed out a sigh. A small chuckle burst through his split lip and turned into a laugh. I couldn’t help it. I joined in until I had a cramp in my side. He let out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Damn, you should be my security,” he said. I giggled even though my hands were still shaking, and I wasn’t sure if the water clinging to my lashes was from laughing so hard or the reality of what had almost happened. 

“I was all talk. I think he’s just scared of his dad. Honestly, Ward Cameron unnerves me, too,” I said. My hands curled into fists. Hopefully, he didn’t notice. 

“If you flying through the air and downing him in one go is your version of “all talk”, then I’d hate to see you fighting.” I allowed myself a laugh and bumped him with my shoulder. He covered his wince in less than a second, and my mouth dropped. 

“I’m an idiot! I’m so sorry! Sorry! I’m so stupid, god I’m sorry,” I gushed.

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured me. A beat of silence came between us, and I knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes flitted from my red lipstick and the pearls in my ears to the elegant Hollywood curls I’d painstakingly worked on that Rafe had undoubtedly messed up. He shook his head in disbelief, and his hair settled in his eyes. 

“Wait, you’re a kook?” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Yes, I live on Figure 8, JJ. What’s wrong with your eye?” 

“No, no, no. You can’t be a kook. You work here! And…you’re…you’re” 

“I’m what?” I asked, folding my arms. 

“Woah,” he said, shooting his hands up in defense. “don’t go turning on me like you did back there. You’re way too chill to be a kook. See? Compliment.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble. Now can you pay attention please? What happened to you? Who did that?” 

“Who do you think? Rafe and his buddies came to finish what they started,” he said too quickly, eyes flitting to the side. I frowned. After so many shifts with him, I’d come to realize JJ was a pathological liar. He did it just for fun, and in the beginning I’d fallen for most of them. But I’d had enough practice to discern that the octave his voice had just dropped to was a lying one. 

“Rafe and his buddies have been getting ready for this all day. They didn’t do this to you. Who did this to you, JJ?” I said, narrowing my eyebrows. He licked his lips and tipped his head back for a second. 

“Yes they did. ‘sides, I’m fine. Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Don’t look at me like that, little kook. You’ve been lying to me!” JJ finally looked back at me, and my heart dropped to my stomach. 

The crystalline blue in his eyes was different from my mom’s deep umber, but there was the same world-shattering pain being held at arm’s length.

I’d been young, so I didn’t remember much. But the wall he’d just erected was the same one I’d seen my mom use when she remembered my dad’s mood swings and drinking. It was the same look. I swallowed the tennis ball in my throat but the strings of felt stayed, scratching at the sides as a reminder that I’d never escape the effects of this kind of pain. But, I didn’t know JJ well enough to call him on it. So I decided he could have my compliance for now. If this made him feel better, I could do that for him. 

“I never claimed to be a pogue, JJ,” I said, giving him a pointed look. 

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re a…a conniving kook princess!” he spat. The grit in his eyes had softened, so I allowed myself to breathe. 

“I can handle conniving,” I shot back primly, and he smiled so wide a drop of blood settled on his lip. His gaze flickered down to his hands and then to mine, which were currently not listening to me. He gently unfurled my trembling hand and pressed it flat against my thigh with his own. 

“Hey, they’re gone. They’re not gonna touch you. And you fought them off,” he said, voice softer than I’d ever heard it. This time, the lob in my throat was only golf ball sized, but I still didn’t trust myself to speak just yet. So I nodded. He was right.

“First fight,” I said finally, looking up at him. 

“Careful, Morales. If you keep this up, you’ll be the pogue poster child,” he warned.

“Hmm, maybe I should pick a fight with Rafe more often,” I said, pushing away the analyses shooting through my head at his hand on top of mine like the exact temperature of his skin and the weight of his touch and by just how many inches his fingers eclipsed mine. 

“Not without me, of course.” 

“Of course not. Who else would be my damsel in distress?” He snorted and shoved me. He removed his hand to dust his vest off and pushed himself up. I used his offered hand to stand up myself. 

“When the clock strikes midnight will you become a pogue again?” he asked, only half-joking. 

“If anything wouldn’t you be Cinderella? Blond hair, blue eyes, always getting into trouble?” I said, reaching up to flick a tuft of hair out of his eye. He cocked his head to think about it, reminding me of a ridiculously oversized Golden Retriever puppy. 

“Hmm, yeah. I’d make a beautiful princess. Coming, Prince Charming?” he asked, raising his voice in what I supposed was a Cinderella impression. I snorted and followed him out of the men’s locker room and down the stairs. 

“I didn’t think you were working today,” I said, stepping through the door he opened for me to the outside. He rolled his lip in between his teeth, and then immediately let go.

“I’m not,” he said, wiping his mouth with his wrist. 

“Then what brings you to the kook hotzone?” I asked. The railing was slick with ocean mist against my forearms when I rested my weight on it to watch the sea of pristine fabrics and not-so-pristine families. 

He hummed and looked down at me as if deciding whether or not to pick me for his team on the playground. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Tell me!” I swatted his shoulder lightly, and he fake pouted.

“That’s him, sir. He’s been serving alcohol to minors.” Rafe. He was pointing straight at JJ, and JJ turned to me. 

“Welp, clock struck midnight. See you around, B!” He saluted and tried to bolt, but the giant of a security guard stopped him short. “Oh, come on, man!” 

“Let him go! He’s my date.” I blurted out, and the security guard gave me a withering look. I pushed myself off the railing and straightened my back. “My name is Bianca Rivera Morales. I am a member of this club, and I expect the guests that I invite be treated with the same respect I am,” I said, staring downy my nose at him with my best impression of Rose Cameron when her club salad took too long. He must’ve been hired for the night because I’d never seen him at my shifts before. So, he huffed, and shoved JJ away from him who grinned at me for a second like I’d grown a second head and it was a good thing. 

“Full kook, huh, B?” he said, voice undeniably impressed. Then he shoved the guard back and launched himself over the rail with a wink. “Ladies and gentlemen, our men in uniform!” He was shouting now and the crowd began to quiet at his energized clapping. 

“Rose! Look like Lady Liberty!” The snort that escaped me would’ve been the talk of the evening if he hadn’t continued with the full attention of everyone present. He pointed to Kiara, who was on the opposite side of the porch in a giant flower headband. 

“Mandatory power hour at Rickson’s Ki! Pope, you as well! Workers of the world unite! Throw off your chains!”

I shook my head at his exchange of salutes with his friend, John B. Kiara and Pope were already halfway across the grass with half-baked excuses for their parents. JJ lifted her up and spun her as they ran. 

Their laughter carried over the whispers of the crowd and lingered even after they’d disappeared into the night, warmer than any of the twinkling lights strung above us and lighter than any summer breeze. 

Free. 

I sighed and let a gust of ocean mist cool my cheeks for a few seconds before deciding I’d talked to all the necessary people for the necessary amounts of time. No one would call my mom up talking about how sad it was she couldn’t make it because they’d first have to glow about how polite her daughter was. And they wouldn’t admit that she’d managed to raise a decent child even though she was working most of the time, so they wouldn’t call at all. My work here was done. There was, however, time for one last reward for dealing with all these people’s apathy, so I snatched a slice of the berry cake. I decided to drop by the kitchens to drop the plate off before my escape. Most of the staff knew I was a kook by now, and JJ had been the only one whose reaction I’d ever somewhat worried about, so I didn’t mind saying hi in my dress. 

“Hi, honey! You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Abby gushed as soon as she saw me. Even though she was still in college and just a handful of years older than me, she never addressed me without some term of endearment. I thought it was because she had a little toddler of her own, and the motherly instinct just didn’t go away even when she came to work. But, nothing made me happier than hearing her talk to me. I was the youngest staffer along with JJ, so everyone treated me nicer, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted it any other way. 

“Thank you! How’s Joshua?” I said, dropping my plate off by the other dishes. My fork clinked against the other silverware. 

“Gracias, Nestor,” I said to the dishwasher who had taken my dish off the pile to wash in Spanish. He spoke some English, but the first time he’d met me, he’d spoken Spanish so I always used that to make him more comfortable.

“Por supuesto, mija.” He offered me a small smile before turning back to his work. 

“Oh, you know, babe. He’s so smart, keeps growing too fast, and laughs at everything,” Abby said, taking a final sip of her water and discarding the paper cup as per clubhouse policy. 

“That’s good. I’m sure he’s enjoying the summer.”

“He is, baby. But, it’s getting late, and you’re way too dolled up to be back here in that dress. Get some rest, sweetie!” She shuffled me out of the kitchen cheerfully. I bid her goodbye and made it to my car without any other run ins. 

“Hi, baby!” I said, giving my retriever, Lola, a hug and refilling her water once I made it home. The image of JJ twirling Kiara in his arms and patting Pope on the back kept replaying in my head as I changed into my pajamas. I didn’t want to be jealous. I was not a jealous person. But I kept imagining him turning back around and inviting me along with them. I’d even fantasized about turning my car around to find them at Rickson’s Cove and make up some excuse as to why I’d stumbled upon them in the middle of the woods in a red dress and pearls. 

I had friends: Lily, Ellie, and Quinn. There was a group chat and everything. But I didn’t feel all that connected to them, and we rarely hung out after school. I felt bad, but I mostly hung out with them because they were the first people that had sat with me at lunch in middle school. I’d been too scared to branch off since. They were always taking about the people that had gotten married after graduation and everything going on in Figure 8. They knew the names of the parents and siblings of kids in the grade above us who they hadn’t talked to since kindergarten, and could not only point out what family lived in what mansion but reminisce over memories they had in each one. My mom didn’t have too many connections to the people here, and I’d been shy and awkward as a kid, so their conversations about who was dating who mostly went over my head. Even though I’d lived here for most of the life I remembered now, it didn’t feel like home.

The only people I genuinely enjoyed talking to were the people I worked with. JJ, especially. We were known as a pair at the country club, but like my school friends, he was a work friend. I knew about all the crazy adventures he had with his group of pogues and usually chastised him for getting into so much trouble. I always laughed along in the end, but secretly, I wondered how he and his friends had grown closer than blood. If I could get just a fraction of that kind of bond, I might be happy in the Outer Banks. I would never work up the courage to actually ask JJ if he wanted to do something outside of work, though.

So, we were work friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.


	2. The Sky Looks Bruised and So Do You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At their first shift together since Midsummers, JJ and Bianca face some hard truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/w: Canon typical mentions of domestic violence, swearing
> 
> As always, would love love love to see people's reactions and thoughts. I may not be able to post all I have of this series this week but it's also under kikifromtheblock on Tumblr if anyone's interested :)

Today was my first shift with JJ after Midsummers. My stomach was so twisted, I actually thought I might have to legitimately call in sick instead of using it as an excuse. JJ _hated_ kooks. Now that he knew I’d been a kook all along, could he ever see past that? I couldn’t lose him. There was no one else I talked to as much as him. If I didn’t have JJ...

My knuckles were white around the steering wheel instead of my usual deep tan for another reason though. I would have to confront JJ today about more than just me living on Figure 8. I had to tell him I knew who had hurt him and that I could help. My mom could find him a lawyer, someone that would put his dad in jail for beating him. Getting him to accept that help would be a nightmare, but if anyone convince him it was me.

_Right?_

“Hey, hun! How’s it going?” Lisa, the bartender for today, patted me on the shoulder as she walked past me punching in my number.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Thrilled to be here,” she rolled her eyes with a smile and offered me some low energy jazz hands. “Where’s your other half? He’s going to be late!” I gave her a shrug before going to the back of house to get started on my napkin folding quota. Maybe JJ hated me so much now, he’d requested to switch shifts with someone else. I sat at my usual seat in the table and buried that treacherous thought in the steps to fold the stark white pile of napkins before me. Normally, JJ was back here talking my ear off about the latest pogue escapade from the cops or the last fight that had erupted at the Boneyard while he polished the glasses. Tommy, one of the food runners, placed a cup of sweet tea in front of me instead.

“Yo, what’s up, Bianca?” he asked, plopping himself in the chair next to me. “Why so down?”

I took a sip. “I’m fine! Thanks for the tea.”

He hmphed with a knowing grin. “And the kid?”

“I don’t know, Tommy,” I said, focusing on folding my napkin. “He must’ve called in sick.” He laughed good-naturedly. He was always moving past me with too many dishes in his hands when he saw JJ and I talking so that we were forced to shuffle closer to make room, and waggling his eyebrows at me, but it didn’t really bother me.

“Yo, kook! Table 4’s waiting on ya!” My head snapped up at the sound of his voice. JJ was swaggering through the kitchens like he always did and hitching his thumb behind his back to get me to hurry up.

“Got it, thanks,” I whispered and brushed past him. I couldn’t bring myself to really analyze his expression and see if it was indeed hate he felt for me now. Once I’d filled up Table 4’s waters, I took their orders and made the rounds on my section. I had never considered myself the type of person to use “sir” or “ma’am”, but the first day on the job, the words had just slipped out. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world – I actually liked talking to some of the guests and when they liked talking to me, they left bigger tips. It was when the kooks my age came in that my cheeks felt hot with shame and my jaw clenched. Serving them politely in spite of their snide glares and having to see them in the same classes at school was another thing entirely. I hated that part of the job, and JJ _abhorred_ it. I never wanted him to think of me the way he thought about them in those moments.

JJ never gave me the chance to ask him to bus my tables. As soon as one guest got up, he swooped in and out, leaving me to handle the next group’s orders. To an outsider, we would’ve looked like a well-oiled machine. We were. But usually we were a much noisier one. He was avoiding me. Maybe I should’ve spelled it out for him a while ago. But if I had explicitly told him that I was one of those people he always ridiculed behind their backs, would he ever have taken the time to talk to me?

“Dinner tonight, Bianca?” Tommy asked, no doubt already punching his order in. We were allowed one meal per shift under $13, which was basically nothing on the menu, but the cooks usually just made me whatever I wanted, and I punched in an $11 turkey sandwich. And our manager, Ross, hated being back in the kitchens, so it usually worked out.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll take some shrimp tacos!” I said, looking beyond him to our table. JJ was sprawled in his usual seat with one leg extended further than the other, lazily polishing off his glasses. He at least hadn’t pushed my stack of napkins to the other side. I seated myself carefully beside him and resumed my work.

“So, why do you really work here, huh KP?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Kook Princess,” he explained. A small noise of indignation left my mouth. That nickname was reserved for the likes of Sarah Cameron, but he gave me a look that said he wanted answers so I let it go.

“My mom has a lot to worry about,” I began, keeping my eyes trained on the napkins. “She doesn’t need me asking for more money. It’s just us two.” He scoffed and shoved a handful of parmesan fries we normally split into his mouth. I didn’t want to risk rejection, so I ignored the rumble in my stomach. My tacos would be ready soon.

“Right, I’m sure you’re really struggling in your marble mansion.” I scowled.

“I don’t live in a mansion, JJ. It is big though. Too big for just me,” I said. “Life on Figure 8 isn’t cheap…and we weren’t always rich. My mom had to work a long time before things got comfortable.” JJ knew me like he knew the rings on his fingers. And sometimes people mistook my shyness for a metallic coldness, but he usually made that part of me warm. But I’d never told him about my background. Had never really told anyone, and I wasn’t sure how much I should share.

“So, she sent you to work so you wouldn’t forget your roots? Typical. You get to dip your toe into the working world while the rest of us need it to survive,” he scoffed, using the glass in his hand to punctuate his sentence.

“No, but don’t tell Ross that. The only reason he lets me work here as a member is because he thinks it’s part of my mom’s parenting plan. She doesn’t know I work here,” I explained, my voice coming out all wrong with this level of honesty. He waited for me to continue. As much as JJ hated silence, he always knew when there was more I wasn’t saying and waited until I’d gotten it all out. I sighed and forced myself to continue despite the fact that my lungs had tensed in protest as I prepared to expose my unspoken worries.

“And she’s great at her job, but…it could always go away. And if it does, I need to be able to help and pay for my own stuff. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t worry about money and that kind of mentality doesn’t just go away overnight, I guess. If she knew I was working here and saving my money instead of going to the beach or studying or even partying I think, she’d freak.”

I placed the napkin in my hands into the finished pile and toyed with the edge of the next one, mulling over our similarities. Sure my mind could get messy and emotions as red as the stains of cocktail sauce seemed to burrow into my very being more often than I wanted to admit, but all it took was a harsh wash and some diligence, and I could be as good as new. Shining white fabric just begging to be folded neatly up in some overly complicated design so that no one could tell I had looked any different at some point in time. Maybe JJ was right and me being a kook meant I was inherently compromised. I may not have had the same taste for apathy and subjugation, but I did have that kook survival instinct that fought hard to buff out all those realities that were too ugly to stare in the eye.

He let out a small huff of annoyance that was only half-real before he pushed his fries between us.

My shoulders fell. It was the greasiest, cheesiest, most stress-relieving fry I’d ever tasted. And because he’d given me a peace offering, I filled the silence for him.

“So did you and the pogues figure everything out?” I asked. He snapped his head at me.

“ _What_?”

“Rickson’s Cove? Your mandatory power hour at Midsummers? Sounded important,” I said through another fry. His jaw relaxed.

“Oh. Yeah, it was fun,” he said with a shrug. Odd. He usually jumped at the chance to brag about all the dangerous stunts he’d pulled while inebriated.

“Don’t tell me you were sharing ancient pogue secrets.” I gave him a long look.

“Yeah, ancient pogue secrets. So back off, kookie poo,” he crooned with a smirk.

“Come on! Tell me! I want to _know._ I won’t tell anyone else, kook’s honor,” I said, placing a hand up in mock salute.

He scoffed. “No such thing, and you know it, B.”

“Shrimp tacos for the lady.” Tommy interrupted us with my order of tacos with extra limes like they all knew I liked. “And your burger’s ready, J.”

“What, I don’t get your stellar service?” JJ snapped without any serious fire, already making his way to the counter.

“Nah, you got legs,” Tommy shot back and ruffled his hair on his way back.

“So, you’re really not gonna tell me?” I asked through a mouthful of shrimp. He swallowed a bite of his bacon burger.

“I mean you know what we pogues do,” he said. “Drank cheap beer, smoked, and talked. Not much else to do when you’re at the bottom of the barrel.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, but usually there’s a narrow police chase or a near-death run in with nature or a “hot chick” that goes along with the evening,” I said, deepening my voice to sound like his when I said “hot chick”. He hit me with his washcloth.

“Oh right, cause those pogue hooligans are just trouble. When will the prejudice stop, Bianca?” He shook his head with mock disgust. I ignored him and picked up my second taco.

“Perhaps you’re getting old. Can’t hang with the cool kids anymore.” He barked out a laugh.

“Right, and you know all about those,” he drawled. I nodded, glad to be playing along again. This was good. JJ trusted me. Once we were alone, I could ask him about his dad and tell him my mom had a way out. Or would have a way out once I told her. I let that thought soothe my nerves, sweeping through my body like my mom’s cinnamon tea. I could convince him to take my help. We were still friends.

Once we’d finished clocking out and begun the trek to the parking lot, however, my nerves flared again. My mouth felt dry, and I rubbed my pointer nail against my thumb. I had to help him. JJ needed to know I could get him out of his situation. He didn’t deserve the violence, so I could manage this discomfort if it meant keeping him safe.

“JJ,” I began and gulped a breath of humid air because my voice sounded way too thin to be comforting. I was supposed to be comforting him.

“Yes, KP?”

“If I ask you something, can you commit to telling me the truth?” I asked, stopping by his bike. The sky was a dusty indigo now, contrasting against his golden skin nicely. Right now, it only reminded me of bruises though. Bruises and split lips and who knew what else.

He cocked his head. “I’m a pillar of honesty. Pogue’s honor.” The scab on his lip moved with his smirk. My teeth ground together, and I allowed myself to swallow once more before speaking.

“Was it – was it your…dad who did that to you?” I asked feeling impossibly small against the dark blotchy sky and his tensed jaw and the bike.

He shook his head and licked his lips once, twice. He let out a huff. “Why. Why would my dad do this to me, Bianca?”

“JJ, please. Be honest,” I asked. He scoffed.

“Yeah, I should’ve known. I should’ve known better. Just cause I’m from the Cut, you think my dad’s a drunk and hits me for fun. Cause none of us are good people. Can’t have normal lives with normal parents like yours right? Half the year your mom’s not even here. Doesn’t even know what you do, huh, B?” he sneered. He was just lashing out because he was scared. He didn’t mean this. He couldn’t.

“I never said he was a drunk, JJ,” I reminded him, and his face fell for a fraction of a second. “Rafe didn’t do that to you,” I continued, my voice steadier now. “I know he didn’t. JJ, I’m just trying to help. I know your dad hit you. I know he did. And I want to help you make him stop.”

“And how do you know? What could a spoiled, rich kid like you possibly know about shit like that? About fixing that? You think you can just throw some money around and suddenly he’d ” he snapped, his upper lip curling back as his voice got louder.

“JJ, why do you think I only ever talk about my mom?” I snapped right back. His eyes went wide, and his hands clenched into fists. He let out a breath of air through his nostrils, but still waited for me to finish. “I know this is hard. I know you don’t want to talk about it or even, even admit it. But I can help you. My mom can help you! She knows a bunch of lawyers that can put your dad in prison, JJ. _Prison_.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a step back, rolling his shoulders like he was gearing up for a boxing match. “No,” he said, shaking his head at me. “No, you don’t know shit, Bianca. Because what happens to me then, huh? My friends? Gone. This job? Poof. _You?_ No. If he goes to prison, I’m shipped to the mainland to some sick couple with a white picket fence that just wants a charity case to make them feel good.” My heart dropped, and my lip wobbled. How could he not see the path to safety for what it was?

“JJ, he’s _hurting_ you. He’s…he’s killing you! I can’t just watch you slowly break while he gets away with it!” I said, begging he’d get this through his thick skull. But I’d dropped the napkin in tar, and then JJ had lit a match. The sky had never been bruise purple at all. I’d tricked myself into believing it was the same shade as a healing process. It was black as oil now, and had swallowed up my plans just as quickly as it had descended to night.

“No.” He rubbed his face. “No, you’re not going to do anything, okay? My dad’s never touched me, okay!” I tried to approach him, but he shook his head.

“No, no, Bianca. If you come near me, I’ll…I’lll… No, you’re going to stay the fuck away, okay? You’re going to keep your mouth shut and not make up exciting fantasies about other people’s lives because yours is too boring to look at,” he spat, mounting his bike and shoving his helmet on.

“JJ!”

My plea was drowned out by the smog and roar of the engine as he sped away.


	3. Who Wouldn't Take That?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianca tries to convince the Pogues to accept her help as things with John B reach a boiling point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I struggled with this chapter more than I expected but it’s done and I think I’m kind of happy with it. I would really, really love to hear back from some of you even if it’s just a keyboard smash or anything like that. Seriously, please don’t be shy to talk to me about your thoughts!! This doesn’t follow the canon timeline perfectly, but it worked better for what I wanted to do so oh well. Also, I realized these past two chapters have ended in JJ and Bianca in bad places. I PROMISE I’m going to fix it in the next chapter! 
> 
> T/W: Canon typical mentions of domestic violence and violence, swearing

A slice of chocolate cake slid into my vision.

“Eat up, honey. Looks like you need it,” Abby encouraged, giving my shoulder a tight squeeze. The past few days I’d oscillated between living my life, ignoring anything that reminded me of JJ and falling into ruts of anxiety over what he could be enduring at the hands of his father while I was curled up watching Netflix with my generator. Most people saw me as a stony visage. Cranky guests rarely fazed me, and when the kitchen’s friendly banter died at the hands of furious chopping and recited orders, my coworkers marveled at my cool image, even though internally my mind was a series of alarms. But that unreadability didn’t really work with Abby, or JJ for that matter but I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him with anything other than bitterness at this moment. There were days when I’d walk in the door, and she’d have her arms around me before I could even say hi, sensing there was something bothering me even if I didn’t quite know what it was. I thought I’d maintained my mask well, but apparently I was in one of those worried ruts. And worse, it was horribly visible.

“Thank you,” I responded, trying to make my voice as casual as possible. She just smiled and handed me a fork.

“He’ll be okay,” she assured me. The chocolate cake was, of course, incredible. I relaxed, and let it overpower those worries about how JJ needed my help until they tasted of nothing more pressing than saccharine buttercream. Once home, I sent JJ a snapchat with my address, saying if he wouldn’t accept my legal help then he could always stay here when things got rough. It was an exact replica of my previous two messages and I knew he hadn’t received them because the power was still down for most of the island. But as soon as it turned back on, he’d know. Then I turned on the evening news and began prepping the ingredients for some sugar cookies.

When my mom had run from my dad, we’d gone to my grandma’s house deeper in the Cut. She’d watched over me while my mom went to class in the evenings and worked during the day. Every night from 6 till 7:30 pm EST, the local news provided the background noise for our dinners together. My grandma would ask me sometimes what certain words meant in Spanish, and I would tell her, but I think it was always more of a ritual that made her feel like she belonged in America than it was a way for her to stay informed. When she’d died, we’d kept the habit up as best we could, given my mom’s odd work hours and my band and debate practices. But in the summer when I had nothing to do other than work, the local news stayed on from 6 to 7:30 pm.

It wasn’t until I was plopping my second batch of cookies onto the baking sheet that I actually deigned to look at what was happening tonight.

The spoon slipped from my hand and clanked against the nearly empty metal bowl.

“Local teen, John B. Routledge, suspect in the murder of Sheriff Peterkin.”

Cookie dough seeped in between the buttons on the remote as I pounded the volume up until it hurt to hear. _Authorities have been searching for him all night. Armed and dangerous. $25,000 reward for anyone who brings him in alive._

This wasn’t possible. I’d never spoken to John B, but I knew all about him from JJ’s stories. John B’s heart had been carved from gold. I knew about the time he’d nursed a baby bird back to health with Kie’s help, and I knew that he’d sprained his ankle trying to rescue Pope’s cousin’s kitten from a tree. I knew how hard his dad’s death had hit him, but I also knew that he’d still been the life of the party and showed up for his friends these past 9 months.

Lola’s tongue lapped at my fingers, and it took me a solid thirty seconds to process the potential harm. I launched my wrists into the air once the gears finally clicked and snapped at her to stop. She wined in protest, but hopped on the couch to pout with her head on my lap.

This story was all wrong. John B had not murdered anyone, but he would need help. Legal help.

If JJ wouldn’t accept my help for himself, he at least had to for his best friend.

JJ was smart enough not to go to the Chateau – there’d be cops everywhere. So, where else could he be? Where did JJ and his friends go? The docks, the marsh, the Boneyard, the Wreck, Heyward’s. The docks were a possibility. I didn’t have a boat so the marsh didn’t matter. The Boneyard was called the Boneyard for a reason, no place to hide. The Wreck was another possibility. Heyward’s had potential, but it was also connected to Pope’s house, and JJ said his dad definitely hated him. It would be harder to hide there without getting caught.

A cop car whizzed past the second I opened the front door, plunging my porch in blue and red light. My insides tightened, but I forced myself to hop in the car. Whatever the real story behind the trouble the pogues had managed to get themselves into this time was, my mom, and by extension I, had the ability to untangle it and get the public to accept it for them.

JJ would have to see that. John B had no idea who I was, and I was sure he was scared of everything right now. There was no way he’d believe some random kook finding him and claiming she could get him a lawyer unless his best friend told him it was true. For John B, he would have to see I was the answer and accept my help.

First, I had to make sure they weren’t at the Wreck. If that failed, then I could spend the rest of the night combing the docks until I found them. I’d been to the restaurant a few times before, but seeing its lights off along with the sounds of police sirens in the background made me hesitate. I took a deep breath and opened the car door. And maybe there was another reason I was nervous to be out here. Maybe it had to do with the things JJ had said to me the last time I’d tried to be anything more for him than another work friend. This wasn’t about me though. If I was uneasy just hearing police sirens, John B must’ve been terrified knowing they were hunting him down. All the more reason to leave the safety of my car and help him.

I walked up the porch steps, trying to keep the wood from creaking to absolutely no avail. My heart hammered in my chest, but I looked through the windows to see if anyone was there. Stupid, really. If John B and his friends were here, they would be hiding. Not in plain sight of the front window. So I forced myself to follow the wraparound porch and stopped when I saw the gray SUV in the back. It was one of their cars. I’d seen JJ get picked up in it a few times after work. I exhaled.

John B was here.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped and swore.

“Jesus, JJ!” I hissed. He was watching me, car keys and a hoodie in hand. The pool of moonlight along with the red cap pulling his blond hair back illuminated the fact that in the time since he’d last yelled at me, both his eye and lip had healed. I wished the realization hadn’t loosened the knot in my stomach.

“Be quiet, you’ll wake the others up,” he snapped. “What are you doing here, Bianca? Go home.”

“I know John B didn’t do it,” I began, stepping away from the window. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, of course he didn’t do it, but you need to get out of here. There are cops everywhere.”

“JJ, I can _help_ him, remember? He’s going to need a lawyer. And I can provide that,” I said. He sighed and shook his head slightly, scratching at his chin.

“No, you can’t help us. We’re fine, Bianca. Leave it alone. We’ve got it figured out, okay? Just go home.” His voice was surprisingly soft with some emotion I couldn’t place. I huffed.

“JJ, you’re not fine!” I snapped but schooled my tone back into earnestness. This wasn’t about JJ. “Where’s John B? You have to tell him I can help. All he has to do is turn himself in, and my mom will handle the rest. For free, JJ, I promise. You just have to tell him.”

He scoffed. “Turn himself in, B? Do you hear yourself?”

“Oh my god, JJ,” I groaned. “Fine, I’ll just tell him myself. Where is he?” I turned back to the Wreck and made for the door.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He was suddenly in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged them off. Just because I was committed to helping John B didn’t mean that I’d let him off the hook for how he’d treated me. “Bianca, listen. He’s not here, okay? The cops came after us, and he split.”

“Well, we have to find him!” I urged, my voice getting louder. I looked around the dark street as if John B would magically appear. Why was he not freaking out? JJ should’ve been off the walls.

“I don’t know! I don’t know okay? We’re meeting up in the afternoon at the boat dock. We have a plan. He’s gonna be fine, but you have to go,” he said, grabbing my shoulders again and lowering his head so he could look me in the eyes.

They weren’t burning. No, his eyes were cornflower blue. Blue as a still lake. They were the shade of blue most people associated with the word. The kind of shade that calmed one down: cool and a little somber.

“What plan, JJ?” I demanded. “He has to turn himself in. I promise I can get him out. You have to tell him. Tomorrow, when you see him, you’re going to tell him. Right JJ?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him what you said.”

“And you’ll make sure he does it? He turns himself in, doesn’t talk, and I’ll get him out?” I said, staring him in the eye and hoping he’d make me believe him.

“Yes, Bianca. I’ll tell him to run himself in. I’ll tell him he has a way out. Promise. But you have to go. If Shoupe finds you with us, you won’t be able to get him out.” I swallowed, his proximity and the truth of that last sentence lowering my resolve. I knew my next words might hurt him. Knew I risked him lashing out like at our last shift and sending him into a spiral, which was the exact opposite of what John B needed. But if I didn’t say it, he might not actually do it. I grabbed onto his wrist tightly as if the contact would somehow force him to follow through.

“JJ, I’m serious. If you can’t accept my help yourself, then you have to at least give your best friend the option. And convince him to take it.”

He looked at me. “I know.” I blinked. My hand on his wrist loosened, and he let go with a step back.

The warmth of his fingers and the weight of his rings lingered on my bare shoulders the entire ride home. The feeling escaped me as soon as I opened the door and smoke filled my lungs. I’d burned the cookies. Damn it.

Even after I’d showered and changed, I couldn’t shake an itch, like an invisible hair had remained plastered to my back the entire night. I eventually managed to sleep after staring at the ceiling for two more hours, and when I woke in the morning, I knew what was wrong.

JJ had lied to me.

Nearly every one of his sentences had ended with him telling me I needed to go. I knew JJ. He didn’t believe in the system. He wouldn’t chance losing his best friend when it was his lack of credibility and shoddy police work that had landed John B in this mess in the first place. If JJ had truly believed I’d presented him with a way out, one that would keep John B with him, he’d have been practically alight with excitement. All I’d seen in his eyes were still waters, and beneath them, he’d calculated the best way to get me to leave. _Shit._

Fine. If JJ wanted to condemn his friend because he couldn’t bring himself to accept help from anyone but himself that was fine. But I was not going to let John B do whatever outrageous plan they had in store without knowing all his options. I fed Lola and was speeding towards the boat dock in minutes. Something was wrong, and no one else with power on this island would offer the pogues enough understanding to right it.

I didn’t come to this part of the island often so it took a bit of backtracking and squinting through the golden light streaming through the trees around me to finally find the hangar with the gray SUV. I slammed on the brakes and pulled in. I hoped JJ could hear every messy crunch of the dried underbrush and gravel beneath my feet and would know it was me.

“JJ!” I called out as I walked through the open door. The air was stale and briny and lodged in my throat in an instant. JJ whirled around, eyes huge. Good.

“You told John B about the lawyer I can get him right? That’s why you’re getting this,” I assessed the boat he was prepping, “this piece of junk ready?” He gave a series of offended blinks but seemed to remember he was the one in the wrong here. I crossed my arms and uncrossed them. This was not going as satisfyingly as I’d hoped.

“Bianca – “ JJ began, but Kiara cut him off.

“What lawyer?” I stared at JJ to see if he would answer. His face fell, and his lips formed the beginnings of different words. Somehow, I knew none of them would be sufficient or in my favor.

I scoffed. “You never told them.”

“JJ, _what_ lawyer?” Kiara demanded. JJ was still uncharacteristically silent. I had shocked him into silence. Under different circumstances, I might’ve reveled in the victory.

“My mom,” I said, turning to Ki who to her credit looked ready to kill JJ. “ She’s a lawyer. I told JJ to tell John B she could help him for free. He just has to turn himself in, and I promise I’ll get him out.”

“JJ, are you serious right now?” Kiara groaned. “Why didn’t you say anything?” JJ shook his head, and his eyes cleared. He turned to the side with his back against the boat so he was facing us both.

“Come on, Ki. Kooks don’t come around for people like us, you know that. We can’t trust anyone,” JJ said.

Couldn’t trust _me_.

JJ didn’t trust me to do the right thing. I almost stumbled back. Might’ve lost the power from the hurricane of wrath I’d come in here as if I hadn’t forced myself to speak.

“Right, JJ. Because I’ve just been _waiting_ to turn on you,” I interrupted, voice dripping with poison.

“Oh come on, B,” JJ said like he actually believed he was being reasonable. Like I was somehow pulling one over on him. “It’s a 25k reward. Who wouldn’t take that?” The hurricane died. Snapped out of existence and in its place was the driest heat I’d ever felt. It threatened to snatch the breath from of my lungs and mutate every warm memory I had with JJ into the ruthless blaze of desert sand beneath one’s feet. And if I’d reached out to hold onto them, they would’ve slipped through my fingers, searing my skin as they escaped. The screech of a bike filled the shocked silence between us, and Kiara mumbled that she was going to get Pope.

“Fuck you, JJ.” I turned on my heel.

“Hey, there. What’s going on? JJ. Bianca? When are you going to learn these pogues aren’t worth your time?” At a different time, Rafe’s voice might’ve sent shivers down my spine. But I was too fed up with everyone to care. I prepared to turn and tell him to back the fuck off when a low whistle carried over the wind, and a guy I’d never seen before patted Kiara’s car. His dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and though he looked young, there was something too casual about his voice as he assessed the scene they’d walked into. Something too comfortable with the moment before a boiling point, when the promise of chaos festered beneath the surface, mere seconds from bursting. His voice did send shivers down my spine.

“Bianca, come here.” The click of metal cut through JJ’s voice, eliminating any reassurance he might’ve given me.

My heart pounded at my ribcage, begging me to move, to run as far away from here and never look back. But the second the barrel of a gun stared me down my feet cemented to the floor – solid in spite of the rubbery feeling that had shot through my legs.

“See don’t think I forgot about you and me on the side of the road, boy,” the boy began, stepping closer. I didn’t have a voice or JJ’s hand around my waist smoothly pulling me behind him as this agressor’s voice elevated would’ve made me screech. “I’m here because I want my motherfucking _MONEY BACK_!”

The crack of JJ’s skull hitting the pavement snapped me out of my stupor. I could hear Kiara’s screams behind me, but I knew Rafe wouldn’t rough her up nearly as bad as this man kicking JJ.

“Stay down, boy.” He rolled JJ over with his foot, and the groan that slipped out of JJ’s mouth stung as much as any slap to the face. My eyes darted to his gun, which he held loosely at his side now, nearly in his pockets. My movements were mechanical but strong. I took one, two forceful steps forward and used the momentum from the last one to shove at his shoulders with all my weight.

“Get off of him!” I snarled. He stumbled, and the gun clattered to the ground, but he regained his footing just as quickly.

“I know what you did. I know you killed Sheriff Peterkin!” The sound of Ki’s voice behind us stopped both of us short, JJ’s heaving filling the short seconds it took us to process.

Rafe had killed Peterkin.

The gunman smiled at me and lunged. My back slammed to the ground. His fist connected with my jaw, the pain more forceful than any explosion, and tears sprang to my eyes. Before I could roll him off of me, JJ had sprung.

“Back off, Barry!” He slammed him to the side of the boat and let him fall. I zeroed in on the gun he began to reach for on the ground and forced my foot to move, sliding it beneath the boat. I could hear a metallic clang behind us and the name Pope, so I knew Kie had back up. Despite this, her screams grew more and more intense, so I dared a glance behind.

Pope was winning. He was more than winning. His unforgiving hands were tightening a red pipe around Rafe’s neck while Kiara pleaded with him to stop. JJ scrambled up then to order him to let go. But Pope wasn’t stopping. He just kept tugging.

I locked eyes with Rafe. Rafe who’d almost touched me. Rafe who’d killed Sheriff Peterkin. Rafe whose bloodied lips floundered as he fought for his last breaths.

Finally, Pope let go and stared at Kiara who’d screamed at him to look at her. Rafe’s body slumped to the floor, and I took a step back, which turned into me plopping myself on the ground. I registered that it wasn’t an earthquake at all, but my entire body shaking. I touched a trembling hand to my jaw, and it came back bright red. Not cocktail sauce on a white napkins red. This red belonged to the body. The kind of red that never really left. Couldn’t be washed out or forgotten or hidden by mere soap and water or a clever fold.

“Hey, B.” JJ. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s over. Are you alright?” His hands met my shoulders again for the second time in 24 hours, and he tilted my chin up so that I couldn’t see my bloodied fingers. His forehead wrinkled in concern, and a gash of red shone on his left hand temple from when he’d hit the cement.

Dry burn or raging hurricane. I didn’t know which one it was anymore. But seeing his face gave me the strength to act.

“Fuck off, JJ. Don’t touch me!”

“Bianca, please. Tell me what hurts,” he said. If Barry’s voice was too thrilled with violence, JJ’s was too soft for it. I shook my head, and shoved him away as I stood.

“No, JJ. Get away from me.” I stumbled backwards, watching him and his friends stare at me with wide eyes. It didn’t matter. Their concern wasn’t for me, it was just shock. I was just another kook. A work friend. An untrustworthy liability that had dared to think she could help them. But, I should’ve known better.

I ran towards my car and ignored JJ’s calling and footsteps behind me. And I ignored when I heard them hesitate and turn in the opposite direction as Kie reminded him they didn’t have time, too. 

I’d never broken down in the kitchen before. A childhood of shared spaces and emotional tripwires had conditioned me to confine my tears to the shower. Now that we lived on Figure 8, I’d branched off to my bedroom on occasion, but the kitchen was new.

My legs gave out the second I’d turned the faucet on. A long and silent scream oozed out of me and devolved into blubbering sobs. The shaking hadn’t stopped the entire drive back, so I wrapped my arms around my knees, begging my body to stop. If I could force my limbs to still, then maybe I could also force my thoughts to remain balanced on the end of a pin instead of teetering over and casting my world into a frenzy. Lola lapped at my tears, and I buried my face in her fur.

I didn’t turn the evening news on that night.

**Again, I would love to hear some feedback!! I worked really hard on this and want to interact with more people :)**


	4. Cake and Clemency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a storm strands her at the Chateau, Bianca must decide if she can forgive JJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I search for grocery stores in the actual Outer Banks for this? Yes, yes I did. This is a long one, but I hope there are enough sweet moments in this chapter to make up for the angst of the previous two. I based JJ’s future career goals off of this guy I knew in high school who reminds me a lot of JJ, so take those with a grain of salt. Thank you to everyone that’s reading, and as always, please, please let me know what you think!!
> 
> T/W: swearing, underage drinking, canon typical mentions of domestic violence

John B and Sarah Cameron were dead.

It’d been a week and a half since the power had come back on, but the guilt still weighed me down. I should’ve stayed. Should’ve waited for John B to show up and let him know he didn’t have to head straight into a tropical depression for his freedom no matter what JJ thought of me.

In reality, they simply hadn’t found the bodies or the boat, so it was possible they were simply lost at sea, but if I’d learned anything in the past two weeks it was that hope didn’t power this island the way money, pride, and despair did.

Fury, too, constricted itself around that guilt like a boa as I glared at the empty seat normally reserved for JJ in the kitchens. It had remained empty at all of the shifts he’d been scheduled for since the storm, but that was fine by me. I did not want to see him again after having a gun shoved in my face trying to help him and the things he’d said to me.

But not going to work would mean no money. And he wouldn’t go back to his dad after this. Not when JJ’d stolen his boat, and John B had drowned it.

No money meant no food.

Maybe Pope and Kiara were with him, I told myself. It was possible they’d been bringing him food from Heyward’s. But losing someone was difficult and their relationship could’ve changed. Maybe they were mad at him for not talking about my mom’s legal help, too. It was equally possible they’d grown apart or that JJ had distanced himself from them knowing how much he despised vulnerability. An angry huff escaped me as I forced myself to stand up and walk towards the offices.

Stupid JJ. Stupid Bianca. Stupid, stupid, stupid beat my heart. Stupid, it accused me, because I was rifling through the employee files in Ross, our manager’s, office. If he found me back here, looking through his confidential materials, I would be fired for sure.

Finally, I found JJ’s. The country club required us to put down two emergency contacts. If I knew JJ, the second would be John B’s information including his house, the Chateau. I snapped a quick picture of the address with my phone and shoved it back in its place, meticulously arranging it at the exact angle I’d found it.

As I opened the door, I came face to face with The Great Equalizer.

JJ called Mama L that behind her back because she was the only one in the kitchens that did not show me any preferential treatment. Even though she always snapped at him to stop stealing food, she never ratted him out to Ross. The woman had a soft spot in that hard heart of hers, and it was reserved for JJ Maybank.

So I forced my lips into a wobbly frown and looked at her with pleading eyes. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I’m sorry,” I lied. A honeyed, pleading tone would not dissuade her, so I gave her my best impression of JJ’s sincere voice. “I’m just…worried. I’m worried about JJ, and I need to check in on him.” She sighed and gave me the greatest shock of my life when she enveloped me in a hug.

“Tell him I say hi. And remember, he’s been through a lot, kid,” she said, patting my cheek once before pushing me away. I nodded my assent and turned away as quickly as possible. “And tell anyone that happened, you’ll be fired on the spot!” She called after me. I had to bite my lip to keep the victorious grin off my face.

Too easy.

Harris Teeter had never seen a more murderous grocery shopper. Only part of my aggravation was due to the torrential downpour and strong winds that greeted me when I exited my car. The other part of it was that I had somehow found myself risking interaction with JJ again when I’d told myself I wouldn’t care anymore. And though I promised myself I would only buy essentials too, the Cheez-Its and pizza rolls and Oreos found their way into my shopping cart.

It was basic human decency. That’s all this was. I would drop the food off and be back at home ready to down the bottle of wine my mom had left in the trunk of my car a while ago.

A giant, many-branched tree that would’ve given the Whomping Willow a run for its money obscured most of the tiny beach house so that I almost missed it. Red string lights lined the edge of the roof, and if I got closer, I was sure the white paint would be chipping. A rusty orange van stood watch in the driveway, but no bike, which I knew to be JJ’s preferred method of transportation. My conclusion that no one would notice me if JJ was out eclipsed the tinge of concern that wormed its way into my mind when I thought of him driving through this rain in that bike.

Rain drops easily penetrated my thin cotton work shirt and formed a thin layer of ice over my skin as I forced as many bags as I could stand into each hand and walked to the front porch. The end of the second round of groceries had my entire body shaking, and I grit my teeth in preparation for the final drop off. If this rain was the price of not having to see JJ, I could pay it. He wouldn’t even know it was me.

“Bianca?”

_Well, fuck._

I closed my trunk and stepped out from behind the cover of my old Jeep, but didn’t say anything. Thunder rolled above us, accompanying the shiver that ran up my spine. It was difficult to see through the rain, but I made out that the gash on his forehead from his fight with Barry had healed. I tried to focus on that and nothing else.

Not the soft fluff of his hair, so vividly golden it could’ve pierced through the clouds if he really tried. Not the wrinkles on his forehead as he stared at me in confusion. Not his long fingers twisting his mismatched rings around his knuckles.

“I’m leaving, don’t worry.”

“You brought…groceries?” he asked. It wasn’t like I could lie, so I held up the bags in a “well, duh” sign. He ran the mental calculations and retraced the thought processes that would’ve landed me here, and frowned when he’d finished. The last three bags weighed down my arms the longer I stood still. Why hadn’t I gone quicker? 

Fine. All I had to do was drop them off on the porch and drive back home. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. So I trained my eyes on the ground in an effort to keep the rain out of them, too annoyed with everything else to care that my shoes were only getting muddier, until the edge of the wooden porch stopped me short. I dropped the bags on the last step, and after a beat dared a glance up.

He stared at me like he wasn’t sure I was real. My throat grew thick for one horrifying second, and I swallowed hard as a fat drop of rain landed in my eye. I cleared my throat.

“I’m going to go.” JJ’s hand wrapped around my wrist in an instant, and I turned, squinting through the rain to look at him again. His face was all pinched together now more reminiscent of the gray clouds than the sun, and I hated it.

“Wait.”

“I have to go. Before this shit kicks up any more,” I argued, raising my voice to be heard over the howling wind.

“You can’t drive in this. Are you crazy?” I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t deny the uncomfortable prick of cold that had nothing to do with my soaked clothes at the thought of driving through the muddy streets of the Cut.

“Why do you care? Don’t you want to get rid of untrustworthy kooks like me?” I shot back. His concern morphed into a scowl. Good. I could deal with angry JJ. Not…not caring, puppy dog eyes JJ.

“Come on, Bianca, don’t be stupid!” he urged.

“No, this isn’t stupid. Stupid would be not even telling your best friend that you had a way out for him other than fleeing the island in a tropical depression!” I shouted as a particularly strong gust of wind threatened to unbalance me. He groaned, running a hand through the yellow dandelion fluff on his head.

“ _Please, B_. You can’t go out in this! Come inside.” As if on cue, a strike of lightning crackled through the sky. The hair on my arms stood up on ends.

This was not the plan. But the rain felt like tiny icicles spearing through my flesh and his hand was warm and maybe there was a reason I’d spent too much time deciding between whole and 2% milk. Maybe there was a reason other than the rain that I’d driven at 25 mph the entire way to the Chateau. Maybe his hand on my wrist asking me to stay was exactly what I’d been driving towards.

“Just until the storm dies down,” I agreed with an extra malicious glare so he wouldn’t forget that I was still angry. It didn’t faze him as he pulled me onto the porch and through the front door.

“The groceries,” I whispered through chattering teeth as he rummaged through a room down the hall.

“I’ll get them,” he called back. Whatever. He could have his groceries soaked if he preferred. I grabbed my hair and squeezed out the excess water on the rug – it had definitely seen worse. “Here, they’re a little old, but they’re clean. The bathroom’s down the hall. Door’s open.” I stared at the clothes he held out in his hands. I had a spare hoodie in my trunk. I should go and get that.

Instead, I snatched them and brushed past him. Surprisingly, the hoodie and sweats smelled of nothing but laundry detergent. I looked at myself in the mirror and shivered. The clothes may have been clean, but they weren’t warm yet. I bent to roll up the ends of the sweats which were intended for JJ’s long legs and then decided that looked stupid. And then I let out a soft growl because it didn’t matter what JJ thought of me anymore.

How did I end up here?

JJ had tossed my help into the trash, and then set the can on fire. He’d shown me that to him I was nothing but another lying kook trying to make herself feel better with charity.

Could I blame him? Sure we worked together, but I had actively never discussed Figure 8 with him. I wanted him to like me, to think I could be his friend. I’d wanted him to involve me in the final battle because it would mean I had people to fight against the odds for. People that would maybe fight for me if the time ever came.

Had I really had unselfish intentions with him?

Whatever my intentions, he’d been an ass. _It’s a 25k reward. Who wouldn’t take that?_ I steeled myself with those words and opened the door. Just because he’d shown me an ounce of decency by offering me a shelter in a storm didn’t mean he was off the hook. Pops and sizzles and the smell of butter accompanied the sound of the wind outside and the slight scent of weed. JJ stood at the stove, flipping a grilled cheese. I scowled deeper.

Just a lousy kook. That’s all I was to him.

“Here, fresh off the griddle,” he said, sliding the buttery sandwich onto a plate and holding it out to me. “The soup’s almost done, but go ahead and get started.”

“I’m not –” My stomach interrupted me with a particularly loud rumble.

“Not hungry?” He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his lip lifted slightly. I snatched the plate from him and plopped down in a creaky chair at the cluttered dining table. I knew this game he was playing. I would not be won over by his ridiculously greasy grilled cheese and warm tomato soup and cocky half-smile. That was not going to happen. I was mad at him. He’d been an asshole.

“Asshole, asshole, asshole,” I repeated under my breath.

“That bad, huh?” I snapped my head up. He’d finished with the second grilled cheese and the sizzle of oils hadn’t covered my whispers like I thought it would.

“Probably. I haven’t tried it yet.” I spat, as he poured two bowls of tomato soup and set them down. The four empty beer bottles he’d grabbed with one hand clinked together as he set them on the other side of the table so we would have space. Four bottles for four pogues. Only three were missing and in their place was an untrustworthy kook.

“Well, go on. I didn’t poison them, but honestly, you’re hostile enough to survive a poisoning,” he said, dipping the end of his own sandwich into the soup. I offered him a sarcastic sneer before taking a bite.

The decision was regrettable. There was no way I could stay mad at him when he’d created this goodness. I could tell he’d noticed my conclusion, but he had the decency to hide his victory smile by licking his fingers.

That image only made things worse.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” I said primly, dipping my next bite into the soup. He must’ve added something to that too because Campbell’s didn’t taste this good from a can. Something to make my insides warm and my anger liquid. Maybe he _had_ poisoned it.

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” he nodded and took a comically large bite of his sandwich. I shook my head, but didn’t disagree. A long pause came between us as I sifted through different responses in my head like pieces of sea glass. Some impossibly smooth and others still too new to be completely devoid of a sharp edge or two:

_Why’d you do it? Why don’t you trust me?_

_Are you okay?_

_Are you okay?_

_Are you okay?_

In the end, I let the silence take over, too much a coward to jump into an ocean I had no means of navigating. I consoled myself with the fact that JJ hated silence, and he deserved to squirm before I forgave him.

“Bianca?”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow, my voice satisfyingly harsh.

“Thank you. For the food. For…for everything.” I swallowed down a thick bite before looking at him. He was fiddling with his rings and…holding back tears? His eyes were definitely rimmed in red, and there was a slight tremble to his lips.

“‘sjust some groceries,” I mumbled, feeling my resolve begin to shatter. He was hurting. He’d been hurting for a long time, and yes, he’d hurt me too. But not enough that I couldn’t show him the same care he’d shown me every other day but that one.

“No, I’m serious. I should’ve…I should have let him know. Because if I’d told him, maybe he wouldn’t be…” _Dead. At the bottom of the ocean._

“JJ, it’s not your fault,” I whispered, setting down my sandwich.

“No it _is,_ okay? And, ugh, can you stop being so fucking perfect for one second? _I’m_ the fuck-up here. I’m supposed to be apologizing to you because I was an asshole! You’re right.”

I let out a long sigh.

“Well, only part of that is true,” I told him. “I _am_ right. Always am. But you’re not a fuck up.” His lips twitched. “And look, you were an asshole. You said shitty stuff to me and you were under a lot of pressure, which doesn’t excuse anything. And I guess…you’ve known your friends for a long time. I showed up in the middle of the chaos and said I had a way out, but you’re right. I couldn’t guarantee that my mom would drop everything and come defend John B. And I think I did try to hide that I was a kook. I _am_ a kook, and I know it’s not easy to blindly trust a class of people that have repeatedly pulled the rug out from under you.”

“I’m sorry, though. I know you didn’t want the reward. I was just…scared, I guess. And I didn’t want to involve you and risk you getting arrested,” he responded, his words hesitant and littered with short pauses as they always were when he decided to share about emotional topics.

“Why? I could’ve paid the bail,” I said. “And I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“You may be a kook, but you’re still a minor. Your mom would’ve had to come release you from jail, and she’s working that case in London. And…you’re going places after high school. The colleges you want to go to won’t accept you with jail time on your record,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. I blinked and opened my mouth to respond. Then I closed it.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick to accomplish that goal, you know?” I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow, but his smile was fond. “Seriously? Bianca, I was a _major_ dick to you, and you still came back. _Twice!_ You are way too stubborn for your own good.” I paused to think about it and nodded my agreement.

“Okay, fair. But you should’ve known that would happen anyways,” I shot back.

“I figured. But I also had to at least try to keep you away.”

“But I said I could get John B out of it. I would’ve gotten us out if anything had happened, too, JJ,” I said. “Why – why couldn’t you see that?” I hated the brittleness it came out with that hardly hid the fact that…that he’d hurt me. I didn’t want to give him that power. He sighed and looked down at his hands.

“You don’t understand,” he said. The ghost of that hurricane I’d felt when I’d hunted him down at the boat docks threatened to overwhelm me, but I shoved it away and forced myself to think about that.

I’d grown up around the law. My childhood had consisted of plush toys and reams of highlighted legal terms. So maybe that had shadowed the fact that my mom had never gone after my dad. Never pressed charges, never made any reports. Just grabbed me and ran. As much as she believed in the law – as hard as she fought to get in interpreted fairly – she’d never taken it as an avenue of change for herself. Maybe there were some things beyond penal codes and technicalities. Maybe there were some fears, some pains, one could never see past.

The more I thought about it, the surer I was that even in a perfect society with an impeccably balanced legal system my mother would never have brought the law into that fight. Because the risk would’ve been too great. There would always be a chance, however small, the scales would tip out of her favor, and the consequences of that gamble would’ve been losing me.

JJ couldn’t risk the scales tipping, no matter what I’d said. John B was his brother. I’d always known that.

You didn’t gamble with family.

“You couldn’t risk him,” I concluded.

He nodded and finally looked up at me. “I couldn’t let myself believe it. And if the legal path wasn’t an option, I couldn’t let you involve yourself. I know I shouldn’t have said that shit. I know there was probably some other way. And I’m sorry. I get it if you never forgive me, I know it’s not worth it. But I’m sorry.”

I bit my lip. For some reason my chest grew unbearably heavy as I reflected on the pain it must’ve caused my mom to let her abuser go free. Just to have me. Just to make sure nothing would ever come between us. And now, JJ. He was too young to be carrying such a similar weight.

“Um. I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be…I’ll be right back,” I said and shot up.

Once safely behind the closed door, I forced myself to inhale deeply. I’d read once that it was easier to stop yourself from crying if you didn’t move your eyes around. So I lasered in on a blue toothbrush, gripping the sink far too tightly for comfort, until I’d managed to calm myself down and pushed my mom’s sacrifices from my mind.

No one had ever seen me cry except for her, and the last time I’d cried in front of her I’d been 10. JJ had just lost his best friend. I’d had 10 years since my mom made her decision. One of our pains was rawer. I couldn’t be asking him to soothe my own sadness while he was still reeling over the death of John B. I took one final breath and let go of the sink.

“Hey.” JJ’s voice was soft when I opened the door, like sunlight coming through the window on a Sunday morning. It was all he managed to get out before collapsing in my arms and whispering that he was so sorry. I squeezed his shaking body tighter, my heart breaking for him and everything he’d endured.

But I kept my eyes open and didn’t allow myself to accept any comfort from his touch. If I did – if I closed my eyes and imagined that his arms might also protect me from the fears that plagued my own mind – it might be more than just my heart that broke. My entire body might crack, and I might fall to the floor in pieces, nothing more than the ruins of a girl.

“I know.” I whispered, rubbing his back. “I know. I know, JJ.” I didn’t know if things were going to be okay. I didn’t know how he could make it out of this. All I could offer him was every bit of understanding I had and hope it was enough.

I thought back on how we’d gotten here. I’d convinced myself that the reason JJ had first talked to me was because JJ liked everyone, which was for the most part true. He charmed everyone we worked with, and what was more, was that he genuinely cared about how they were doing. But somewhere along the way, I’d realized that JJ cared more about what I thought than anyone else there. At our table in the kitchens, we were friends. Through a series of stubborn standoffs and coincidences, we’d stumbled our way here where qualifications to our friendship didn’t extend.

When he finally pulled away, he gave me a watery smile. I surveyed the wooden walls wearily as another gust of wind battered the house, and the windows rattled.

“Are you sure this place is safer than me driving back to my house?” I asked. He laughed, and if we played his laughter over the speakers used to signal a hurricane, I was sure it might heal the island.

“Please, KP. The Chateau’s been through worse. She’ll hold up.” He rolled his eyes, thumping the wall for good measure. “And if it doesn’t, I’ll get us through the storm. Pogue’s honor.”

“Wow, I feel so safe now. JJ Maybank is going to yell at the rain until it goes away for me,” I deadpanned.

“Don’t lie. You know I could take it,” he shot back with a smug look. He stared at me, licking his lips. “So does this mean you forgive me?”

“Hmm,” I began, pretending to think it over. “Ask me again when I’ve had some cake.”

“Hate to disappoint, buttercup, but I can’t bake a cake.”

“Then I guess the only forgiveness you’ll be getting is God’s. Bianca Morales only offers clemency in exchange for cake.” I shrugged.

“I’ve made my peace with the flames of hell,” he decided, and I shoved him.

“I bought one, drama queen. I’ll go get it.”

“No way! You just got dry!” he protested, grabbing my wrist as I tried to move.

“JJ, my hair’s still wet. It makes no sense for you to get soaked. I’m going.”

“Nope. I know I got you clean clothes, but, uh, if you get those wet,” he said and rubbed the back of his head, “I don’t really have anything else. So bye!” JJ had darted out the door before I could respond. A laugh bubbled out of my throat immediately following my groan. I wasn’t supposed to be laughing with him yet, but it was hard to stop myself. So I brought our dirty dishes to the sink and began to wash them.

He walked in dripping with the mini cake I’d bought. And the bottle of rosé.

“Rosé, B? What’s this for?” Well, I had been planning to go home, eat an entire cake, down a bottle of wine, and cry by myself. But he didn’t need to know that.

“That…was for my friend’s mom,” I nodded. “Birthday gift.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Uh-huh, how did you even get this?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. But you need to change. And maybe shower,” I added, taking the cake and wine from him. He shook his hair at me, spraying me with some droplets, before sprinting to his room with a high-pitched giggle.

I’d opened the cake, poured two cups of wine, and grabbed two forks before I was able to dim my smile. JJ returned in a cut off shirt that left his golden biceps bare and a pair of swim trunks, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. It was times like these when I understood exactly why he pulled so many people.

“Wow, you make one trip to the Cut, and you’re eating without plates. Maybe you do have some pogue in you, kookie poo,” JJ said as he surveyed my set up appreciatively. I handed him a fork and pulled my knees up on the chair, before digging in. JJ caught me up on everything that had happened this summer with the pogues. About Sarah Cameron, Ward, the gold, Big John, and finally the plan they’d made for John B to escape to Mexico. We didn’t dwell on the last part, but the wine was now empty, and I was giggling at what he’d just said.

“You’re drunk, B,” he concluded with a smile. I cocked my head and furrowed my eyebrows.

“No, I only had two glasses,” I retorted. “That’s not enough to get drunk.” He barked out a laugh.

“Bianca, a glass of wine is _half_ of what you poured. You’re not supposed to fill the glass!” he said. I frowned and mouthed an oh.

“Hmm, I don’t feel like I’m going to do anything crazy,” I said. The world did feel a little lighter. I was laughing a little easier and now that I thought of it, there was a slight buzz in my head.

“You’ve never been drunk before have you?” I shook my head, embarrassed. “Do you want more? Not like you can drive back anyways.”

I was already drunk, what was the point of stopping now? Might as well see what I was like. And if I did say something stupid, JJ wouldn’t judge me. So I nodded and he got up, rifling through the cabinets. The clink of glass and crinkle of plastic mixed with his own muttering until he popped back up, holding a mostly empty bottle of vodka with a grin. He set it on the counter and poured some into our glasses, along with some of the juice I’d brought him.

“Here, vodka cranberry,” he said. I sniffed the glass. It smelled mostly of cranberry, so I took a sip.

“Not bad,” I complimented. He smiled and clinked his glass against mine. I was almost finished with my drink when he asked me the question I knew he’d been waiting to ask for a while.

“When you asked me why I thought you only ever talked about your mom, that wasn’t cause he’s dead was it?” I tapped the glass cup with my fingernail as I shook my head.

“Nope,” I said, popping the p. “He was like your dad. Drank too much. Shoved my mom around.”

“Did he ever…” Whatever power I had to reveal as little of my own troubles to others, JJ always nulled it. So I continued.

“Once. He hit me once when I was six after school. I had left my jacket in the parking lot, and he had to cancel a job interview. He was stressed because school was expensive for my mom. And he pulled the car over and knocked my first tooth out. When my mom got back from school, she took me and ran to my grandma’s house. Once she passed the bar, she worked in the mainland for a big firm for a few years and saved up all her money till we could move to Figure 8.” I dared to look up at him. There wasn’t pity on his face, but understanding. Good, I didn’t know what I might’ve felt if I’d seen pity.

“Sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if it’s difficult,” he said immediately. I shook my head slightly.

“It’s okay. I remember it pretty often actually. When…when I get lonely, I remember that the first time he hurt me, we left. And if she did that, then she loves me. She has to.” My voice broke off at the end, and my lips permeated into a frown against my will. Fuck.

“Shit, B, I’m sorry,” JJ said. His face was heavy with a mix of guilt and utter shock, like he couldn’t quite believe I was actually crying when I was normally so cool.

“I’m sorry. He’s out of my life now, and I’m safe. I shouldn’t be…be crying,” I hiccupped, but as hard as I tried, the tears kept coming. JJ’s arms wrapped themselves around me and this time I let myself close my eyes. Let his arms hold me together and his warmth fill the cracks that littered my heart.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s fine to let yourself feel this way,” he whispered rubbing my back. I buried my head in his neck and let my lungs squeeze out all my sorrow and rage. And if I let him hold me a little longer once I’d managed to get my tears under wrap, he didn’t say anything.

I pulled back and wiped at my tears, sniffling too loudly. “Guess I’m a sad drunk.” He laughed and pushed a lock of brown hair out of my face.

“It’s okay, there’s stages to drunkenness. I gotta say, I’d like to see an angry drunk version of you. Maybe even a wild drunk,” he said with a smile. “But, I think you should drink some water too.” I nodded and stood to fill my now empty cup with water. The sudden motion caused me to waver a bit, so JJ grabbed my hand and gently pushed me back down.

“I think I’ll get that for you.”

Once I’d chugged back two glasses of water, JJ let us continue drinking. We talked about his dad, and what we wanted to do when he got older. He’d considered the navy for a moment. I remembered him telling me that one shift a few months ago and the fury that had overwhelmed me.

 _“I’m not much good for anything other than protecting people. Might as well put myself to use.”_ I’d chewed his ear out for that and begged him not to. So when he said he was now considering being a fireman, relief flooded my chest. I told him I still wasn’t sure, but that I wanted to see the world and help people.

I finally made it to a happy stage of drunk where we were both laughing so hard we thought we’d pee our pants. Joyous tears oozed out of my eyes then as we talked about silly things, like who would win in a fight: The Great Equalizer or Shoupe. Mama L, obviously. And when the storm had died down and the only light came from the dim glow of the vintage lamps inside the Chateau, I covered a yawn with my hands.

“We should get some sleep,” JJ concluded. “You can take the pull out. I’ll sleep on the floor.” I didn’t ask why we wouldn’t take one of the other beds. Both belonged to dead people.

“JJ, you’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take the floor.”

He rolled his eyes, and I wondered how he was able to do so without it hurting. “Yeah, right. It’s fine, Bianca. Just get some rest.” I huffed.

“Fine, just share the pull out with me. It’s got enough room,” I ordered from the edge of the mattress he’d pulled out. His jaw twitched as he contemplated the offer.

If I’d been another girl, it might’ve been salacious, maybe even romantic. But JJ and I weren’t…that. We were comfortable. I didn’t really know why we were so comfortable that romance had never really been an option, but I guess a part of it was because I knew in excruciating detail all about his escapades with the hottest tourons every weekend.

Sure, he usually complimented me when he thought my hair looked good or on my outfit before I changed into my uniform on days when I was running late. From the comments my coworkers told me he made about me, I actually believed he thought I was attractive. But, he also thought every girl our age was attractive. It would’ve been kind of sweet if he didn’t describe in so much detail exactly what physical features he appreciated. So, I knew I wasn’t what other girls were to JJ.

There was no way we would get together even if he did find me attractive enough to actually want me. I knew too much about his lifestyle. It wasn’t like I could keep up with all his partying and the smoking and the adventures. I hadn’t even known I was drunk. I could tell he had come to the same conclusion because he nodded and got under the covers.

Him wrapping his arm around me as the rain subsided to a soft pitter patter didn’t change anything about that conclusion.

Not even when my heart skipped a beat.

Not even when a content sigh escaped my lips at the light kiss he placed on my still damp hair.

Not even a little bit. 


	5. Burn, Boy, Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bianca reveals her plan to set things right, JJ has to convince the rest of the pogues to forgive him for his behavior after John B’s death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s in JJ’s POV!! Idk this one was very hard to write, and I wayyy overthought the rest of this series but I figured out what I want to do. And I just wanted to get this one out even though I’m not sure I love it. As always, I would love love love to hear feedback. Your support means a lot, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings: swearing

The past week and a half I’d gone wild searching for anything to mesh with my fire and make it combust. Weed, alcohol, and fights would’ve fit my weekdays better than Monday, Thursday, or Sunday. I’d even pulled up to my dad’s house, tires screeching, ready to storm in and figure out which one of us would bash the others brains out. In the end, I spent half an hour fighting myself from the safety of my bike – he’d been too drunk to hear the roar of my engine, and I’d been too scared to finish things.

Figures.

When my fist finally connected with some random kid’s jaw, the relief had been immediate. Immediately there and immediately gone. Just like the high and the buzz. None of them had destroyed any of the pain for longer than an hour. So I’d made up my mind by the time Bianca had pulled up. I was going to track Barry down, point my gun at him, and get myself some fucking coke.

If it could blind my dad from the life of his son, it could numb me from the death of my best friend.

Asking Bianca to stay was selfish. She wasn’t napalm demanding I combust and blaze quickly. She was more like wood. Telling me to burn, but evenly. In the morning, the flames would leave wisps of smoke and some ash, sure, but not burns or scars.

It was selfish of me to want that. I didn’t deserve it. I destroyed things. It was in my nature, basically my fate. After failing John B, I shouldn’t have been worthy of distractions like holding her in my arms. Like listening to her giggles the entire night, louder than any call the sea had ever whispered in my ear.

So I’d wrapped her in my arms, kissed her head, and promised myself in the morning I would shut this shit down. Make up some lie about how I hated her and didn’t believe anything I’d told her and go get that coke. But when I woke up to a mouthful of her long brown hair and the morning sun highlighting strands of gold and copper, I couldn’t stop myself from giving in a little longer. If I continued staring at her buried beneath that mass of hair, I might never stop being selfish. So I leaned my head back and glared at the rotting wood planks in the ceiling.

Bianca didn’t want me. She never got jealous. At all. I’d told her in excruciating detail about every one of my encounters with other girls. All it got was an eye roll or a shove. I’d even tried telling her about the handful of guys I’d hooked up with, and she’d _smiled_ at me and told me she was glad I trusted her. Bianca Morales had been more upset over the last bread roll being taken at the end of her shift than she was to hear about any of my rendezvous. She cared about me, yeah. More than she should’ve. But she wasn’t interested in anything more from me, and it’s not like I was even capable of giving her the kind of love she deserved.

I felt her wake up before she actually said anything.

“Hi,” she hummed finally, voice still thick with sleep. “Oh, sorry.” She lifted her head slightly so that I could remove my arm from beneath it. I didn’t really have any reason to keep it there so I tucked it under my chest with only a little resentment. She flipped the hair out of her face, revealing the tiny moles around her cheeks and chin, and rolled herself out of bed like we hadn’t just spent the night breathing in each other’s air.

“Sup,” I said. If she was going to be calm, I could be calm, too. “How you feeling?” She tilted her head to think about it and shrugged.

“Fine, actually,” she decided. “Not hungover. You?” I knew a lot of things about Bianca. She put hot sauce on everything, she’d spent her summers in Mexico as a kid with her cousins, and now I knew that in the mornings, her already full lips became obscenely swollen.

_I was fucked._

I forced myself to look away and snorted. “It takes more than that to get me hungover.”

“Wow, you’re, like, so cool, JJ. How will I ever reach your level?” I gave her thighs a light kick in protest, but she ignored it. “Hungry?”

“So,” she began after we’d sat down for breakfast. My heart sped up. Fucking dumb, really. Her lips were their normal perfect size now, and she’d only said one word. Nothing to get excited about.

“Yeah?”

“Have you and the rest of your friends talked since that night?”

Of all the things she could’ve said, I hadn’t expected that one. My stomach flipped even though the omelet she’d made tasted better than anything at the club’s brunch. I thought they’d come by a few times, but the details were blurred by whatever weed or alcohol or head injuries I’d sustained at the time. All three was more likely. _What had I said to them?_

“Yeah,” I said and took another bite so I wouldn’t have to elaborate.

“Good,” she said. “Can you text them to meet you later today? Wherever is fine, but I think we should talk.”

“About what?” I asked. She chewed her next words over for a bit. “Spit it out, B.”

“Rafe Cameron is still not a suspect, and you still don’t have the money. The authorities need to know what was really on the plane and that it’s not Ward’s at all. And they need to know Rafe killed Peterkin.”

“How? They won’t believe us,” I said, already wishing I could shut this door she’d opened.

“Well, I think we can make them. I think they’ve figured out they made some serious mistakes. And I have some ideas as to how myself, but I also need to ask my mom some stuff.” Bianca cleared her throat before continuing in a stronger voice. “Look, Ward Cameron is going to claim that money as his once they figure out what was on that plane. It’s not. It’s yours. And we’re going to make sure it stays that way, so I’ll need all of John B’s notes. Everything that points to the fact that you guys were the ones to actually find the gold. IfWard were going to throw someone under the bus, he would’ve done so already. So it looks like he has a surprising fraction of paternalism, small but there. But Rafe is unhinged. He killed Peterkin in cold blood, jumped Pope with a golf club. He’s a public threat. So we’re going to report that John B told you guys it was Rafe. Which is hearsay, so it won’t hold up in court but – ”

“Okay, okay, slow down, girl! I need Pope with me before you go into all this legal shit,” I cut in. “So,” I paused to rub my chin and process. “So, you need me to get copies of John B’s notes. And to give a statement?”

“Yeah, but for now, the copies and just anything that will show you were looking for and found the gold before Ward bought the Crain estate. The statement will have to wait a bit.”

“And then what? We’ll get the gold? Rafe will go to jail?”

“He’ll be a suspect. And the investigation will likely point to the fact that it was him. They didn’t cover it up well, JJ.” 

I wanted to take the hand she had given me, but another part of me hissed that it wasn’t possible. She had to have some ulterior motive. Kooks didn’t help pogues. I bristled at that thought. Sarah Cameron had died helping John B. If the Kook Princess could push her prejudice aside, I could too. And this wasn’t any kook. This was Bianca. She’d stared a gun down just to help John B, when she hadn’t even met him. She’d thought about this, I could tell. If I couldn’t trust Bianca, the world had really gone to shit.

She smiled once she realized I was on board.

“So, you’ll text them?”

My thumb hovered over the pogues group chat, which still included John B’s contact, for a moment before clicking it and typing out the message. Pogues for life. And after.

_Chateau at 4. Need you here._

“Four o’clock. They’ll be here.” They had to be here.

“Alright, I’ll see you here at 4. Here’s some money for the copies. Make sure you get enough.”

Finding all of John B and Big John’s notes that hadn’t been taken by the two mainlanders was made more difficult by the beer cans and dirty clothes that littered every inch of the Chateau. Once I found everything that I thought Bianca would want and separated the empty cans and clothes into two giant trash bags, I made my way to the club.

The whisper quiet chug of the high-tech kook printers gave me annoyingly little to think about. And I’d managed to make it through the halls without getting caught by any of my coworkers after Trish, the receptionist, had accepted my wink for the keys to the offices, so I didn’t have anyone else to distract me. Thankfully, my mind drifted to last night instead of the night of the police chase.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t go outside.

But seeing Bianca stomp through the rain with a hundred grocery bags weighing her down and that scowl on her face that only deepened with each trip as she no doubt grumbled a string of insults and curses in my name had only been so easy to withstand.

I’d initially gone out to fight her. The wind had practically dared me to start a screaming match with her just to see if we could overpower it. And then I’d looked at her. Really taken in her hair plastered to her bronze skin, and the fact that she’d known I wouldn’t have gone back to my dads’ and wouldn’t have enough money for food without coming to work. When that had clicked, I didn’t want to yell at her or spew flames until she ran.

I wanted her to stay.

John B’s handwriting glared at me accusingly with every copy, as if the paper knew what I was thinking. He was gone, and I didn’t deserve distractions as soft as Bianca.

I just wished I was better at resisting.

Her cream colored Jeep pulled up at 3:40 on the dot. She hated being late. The sunlight seemed to follow her through the leaves, bathing her already tan legs in gold as she hopped down from her car and made her way to the door with an armful of paper bags. I opened it for her, unable to resist the wolfish grin that took over my face. 

“Whatcha got there, B?”

“Burgers, if you’re nice,” she shot back, placing the bags on the table clear from the copies of notes I’d laid there.

“Did you get – ”

“Bacon burger with grilled onions and pickles on the side?” She gave me an offended glare as she wiggled a wrapped burger in her right hand. “Obviously. Did you get my copies?”

“Obviously,” I said and folded my arms. “And who said they’re yours, Morales?”

“Figurative,” she muttered as she took out the rest of the food. She’d taken a shower, and her hair was drying in frizzy half-curls down her back to the generous flare of her denim-clad hips. “Don’t worry. I’m not taking your money.” I cocked my head.

“If we get it because of you, I think we can work out a deal,” I said. She flicked a pesky lock over her shoulder as it grazed the fries before turning back to me.

“Oh yeah? And just how generous do you consider yourself, Maybank?”

“Depends on how useful you prove _yourself_ , Morales,” I shot back, and she shook her head. “But, I think we can cut you 100 mil if you put some elbow grease into all this law stuff.”

“When this works out, I’ll take $400,000 for college and a vacation, that’s it,” she scoffed. And then she narrowed her eyes at me. “You know you’re not going to get the $400 million right?”

I blinked. “The fuck you mean? We found 400 mil in gold!”

“Taxes exist, JJ. Now that you’re going to have to declare you found it, there will be taxes. That leaves you with probably 250 million? Still a shit ton of money. Oh, and my $400,000 will be _after_ taxes.” She said crossing her arms which lifted her alreadycropped shirt to reveal the slightest hint of her deeply tanned wasit. If that hadn’t diverted some of my attention, I might’ve yelled. Fucking Ward. That piece of shit had ruined everything. Her eyes tracked the tensed muscles in my jaw as she hopped onto the couch arm, letting her feet dangle below her.

“So, are you going to need a minute before you want to talk about the plan? I can wait in my car or in the backyard if you want?” I knew she was trying to distract me, but she hadn’t gone in the best direction. I hadn’t told her I had a feeling my latest interactions with the pogues had been less than heartwarming, though. So, I shook my head, staring at the floor.

“No, you can stay.”

“Are you sure? I can go,” she offered again, sliding off the couch to come closer to me.

“Yeah. Stay.” She was right in front of me, so close I could’ve reached up and touched the tiny mole on her chin. Selfish again. B didn’t need to hear whatever fucked up shit I’d snapped at my friends while blacked out.

But I didn’t think I could hear it without her.

She searched my eyes for a second before nodding and glancing at the door again.

“Don’t worry, KP. Not like you’re meeting the in-laws,” I said with a small grin, lightly shoving her shoulder. She looked up at me, big brownish black eyes wavering a little, but tried to play it off.

“I mean the first time they saw me, I looked like I was ready to kill you,” she said. I rolled my eyes and managed to laugh.

“Oh, trust me. That only earned you points in their books.” Tires displaced the gravel outside and we shared a look of panic before the door opened.

They were here together. I should’ve guessed after they’d macked on each other the same night John B had died.

“Why are we here, JJ?” Pope demanded. He looked angrier than when he and Kie had blown up at each other. Almost as bad as he’d looked when he’d had Rafe’s neck in his hands. “You told us John B was gone, and we should be too. So why are we here.”

_Damn it._

My heart dropped at what that implied. Blackout or not, that was shit my dad said. Just like him, I was begging them to take me back after hitting them when they were down. And, even though I hated it, my blood turn to lighter fluid in my veins at his tone.

_Burn, boy, burn._

I clenched my hands into fists and ground my teeth together, even though it probably made me look mad at them. I’d messed it all up already. If I opened my mouth now, I might fuck it up for good. I couldn’t lose them, too. Even if I’d pretended I wanted to. So, for one of the first times in my life, I managed to put the fire out on my own. No drugs or alcohol or punches. No Bianca. Just me.

I let out a strangled breath, still too hot for comfort. Bianca looked up at me to ask if she should leave but before she could get the words out I gave her a slight shake of my head. No. I wanted her here.

“Because we need to talk,” I managed to get out.

“Oh, that’s great, JJ. What happened to none of it mattering anymore?” Kie snapped. When I didn’t answer she went on and stomped forward. “Bold of you to text in that chat, you know. Thought the pogues were done? Good as dead, huh, JJ?” She punctuated her last sentence with a shove.

That might’ve sent me over the edge. Two days ago I probably would’ve downed the beer bottle on the table and yelled at her to fuck off. Out of the corner of my eye, Bianca tensed.

I repeated that I had hurt them to myself. Of course, Kie wanted to hurt me too.

“I’m sorry,” I said, voice not nearly as broken as I felt. “I’m so sorry. If I really believed that, I would never have asked you to come. I…need you guys. Please.”

Her lips and nose pinched together in that grimace she always made when she was trying not to cry. Lie crying was the worst. Especially when you were the reason. Maybe I should’ve just done this myself. They were better off not having to put up with my bullshit.

“Come on, you know I didn’t mean it,” I pleaded turning from Pope to Kie.

When Kie’d had her kook year, I’d been the first to bring her back. I’d taken all her barbed words, looked her in the eye, told her I didn’t believe she meant any of them, and dragged her back to the Chateau. What I’d said to them had been way worse, I knew that in my bones. But, I could see her reliving the memory.

“ _Please_.” I added. Her eyes showed me wounds that ran too deep, and Kie could be stubborn as fuck and cruel and petty when she wanted to be. Pope’s line was always so hard to cross. Once you were there, though, his scorn could leave a wake as messy as a hurricane.

But, I guess they must’ve needed me too. Because Kie crossed the distance between us and strangled me in her embrace. Pope’s arms wrapped around us too, and I couldn’t breathe but that was a good thing because then I probably would’ve thought about the last two times we’d hugged like this. We stayed like that for a minute before pulling back. Kie wiped at her eyes and looked away.

“Sorry,” she said turning to Bianca. “You’re Bianca, right? I’m Kiara, Kie.”

Bianca blinked a few times, probably wondering how Kie knew her name. “Oh, you’re fine. I’m sorry for intruding, but it’s nice to meet you.” B took her outstretched hand.

“I’m Pope. You work at the country club with JJ right? He’s always talking about you,” he said and shook her hand. I shot him a glare, which he returned with a snide smirk behind Bianca’s back once she turned to me.

“Yup,” she said with a shit-eating grin. “We work together.”

“What can I say? You’re a cool kid, B,” I told her with a shrug. “Tell ‘em your plan.”

They turned to her, confused, and she gave me a wide-eyed look before meeting their gazes.

“Um, well, JJ told me about everything that happened with Rafe and the gold. We know Ward weaseled his way into house arrest for the murder of Big John, Scooter, those two mainlanders, and Peterkin while he waits for his trial. And it doesn’t seem like the SBI knows it was the gold in the plane. So, you could leave it at that. Let him rot in jail and move on with your lives. Or we could make sure Rafe gets put to justice, and get your money back. I figured you’d want to do the latter.” She finished with a burst of confidence.

“What do you mean?” Kiara asked, looking at me to check if this was serious. I gave her a nod. This was serious. I could feel it. 

“So, basically the gold is treasure. Certifiable. It’s called the Royal Merchant gold, right? And in America if you find treasure you are its legal owner. Even, in some cases, if you’ve found the treasure on someone else’s property. So, JJ made copies of everything that shows you guys were the ones to find the gold, not Ward, because you’ll need to prove that you found the treasure and you had taken actions to make a claim on it. And right now Ward isn’t claiming anyone else was involved in the murders. But, I mean, they’re bound to figure out that the bullet in Peterkin came from a gun that didn’t belong to Ward, right? So, we need to let them know that John B told you Rafe had shot Peterkin.”

“Hearsay,” Pope interjected.

“Exactly.” Bianca pointed at him without batting an eye. “But we’re not going to use it to prove it’s true. All we’re going to do is use it to launch the investigation, which will, realistically, give them the _admissible_ evidence. His phone will show he was at the landing strip at least, and knowing him, he’ll crack under questioning.” I didn’t have to look at Pope to know he was drooling.

“With the gold you can lay a claim so once they find it, they’ll give it to you. Ward will probably claim it too, but his credibility has taken a serious hit. He’s going to trial, and also he didn’t find the gold. When it comes to treasure like this, it really is finders keepers. I can’t guarantee, our system is fucked, you know that. I know you don’t have a reason to trust me, but I think you’ve got a good chance. A really good one,” Bianca finished earnestly.

“The g-game,” Pope whispered eyes wide.

“The g-game.” I met his eyes and cracked a grin. Kiara grabbed one of the copies I’d made scribbled with John B’s handwriting and Pope’s. Her mouth twitched as she scanned it.

“So this will make them give us the gold?” she asked.

“It gives you guys the strongest claim, yeah. And look, I talked to my mom who’s a lawyer and there are some minor issues. Number one, you guys have broken a lot of laws,” Bianca answered and after a pause added on. “Like so many laws.”

“Yeah, we get it, B.” I grumbled, remembering the stale air in the cell after Shoupe had arrested me.

“ _How_ are none of you in jail?” she continued.

“Okay, girl!” I snapped. She shook her head but moved on.

“So, the defense will probably try to bring that up to damage your credibility. The good thing is murder’s definitely a worse charge to have than breaking and entering. And apparently assaulting an old woman? Whatever, we hope she’s too old to press charges. Butyou’re not on trial, so it shouldn’t matter. It’s just something to keep in mind.”

“So what, we go testify against Ward and Rafe, and they get to put us on blast?” Kie snapped, throwing her hands out like she did when she talked about climate change.

Bianca grimaced. “A little. Like I said, though, you guys aren’t on trial, and the state’s attorney will keep that from happening too much. But it’s good to have a lawyer present while you give your statement. My mom has a few friends that do pro bono work, so she’s going to get in contact with them. Once she’s got a name, the attorney will protect you so you can just talk without repercussions.”

“Okay. So your mom said we need to hand the SBI these notes. Tell them we found the gold and that Rafe killed Sheriff Peterkin and let them do their thing?” Pope asked. Bianca nodded, the hint of a smile creeping on her face.

“Yeah. She told me all the legal stuff we should do. Doesn’t mean we can’t find out where that plane went and who was flying it on our own.”

God, I loved her.

“So? Are we back in?” I asked, taking a sip of beer and leaning back in satisfaction. I knew the answer.

“Hell yeah,” Kie said with a grin after meeting Pope’s eyes. Bianca freed her smile and turned it to me after I knocked her knee with mine under the table. As Kiara began to finalize the details for tomorrow with her, I passed around the food.

Bianca happily popped one of the pickles I handed to her into her mouth without looking before finishing the exchange by placing exactly 10 of her own fries on my pile, the contract having been hammered out in one of our earliest shifts together at the club. Kie followed the interaction as she munched on her own fry and raised an eyebrow at me. I knew exactly what she was thinking and those thoughts did not need to be said aloud. So I looked away and asked Pope about his scholarship.

Shades of pale pink and violet danced across the walls in the Chateau now. The pain still lurked beneath my pride at Bianca’s pitch and anticipation for tomorrow, but for a moment, I could pretend John B’s search had been worth it. Pope would re-interview for his scholarship, Ward and Rafe would be brought to justice, we’d get our money, and maybe Bianca might decide she was just a little bit jealous of all the people I’d been with after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pogues and Bianca make a trip to the police station. JJ and Bianca take a trip around the island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like the gold/Rafe plot I have going is a little anticlimactic and lacks tension, but I will be introducing other obstacles a little later in this series that will hopefully provide that? Really hated this chapter until like 2 hours ago, and now I only semi-hate some parts. I hope you all like the end :) I think it’s been long enough, and we’ve had a chance to hear both JJ and Bianca explain their idiocy. As always, would love to hear what you have to say!! 
> 
> Warnings: swearing

I wanted to take a fine tooth comb and brush out all the humidity from the air. I’d lived in the Outer Banks my entire life, but I’d never managed to make peace with the humidity. It wasn’t the humidity that sent my body into a heated frenzy though, when JJ walked out of the Chateau to greet me the next day.

You would think that after sleeping in the same bite-sized pull out bed with him, I would have managed to maintain some composure seeing his tousled morning hair. I distracted myself by holding up the copies of their notes I’d taken home with me last night with a teasing smile. I had not trusted JJ to keep track of them in his mess of a house.

My mind didn’t stray from the soft wave of his hair, until we’d all pulled up to the police department. The last time I’d been here had been for an elementary school project. My discomfort at being surrounded by people authorized to use a gun against me must’ve made my movements a little too mechanical and subdued because JJ narrowed his eyes at me when we walked through the door together. I rolled my shoulders back. The pogues were placing their trust in me.

“Um, excuse me?” I walked up to the lady at the front desk. She smiled at me.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”

“I’m here because we have some information for Shoupe and the SBI on the Peterkin case that we’d like to share,” I said. She squinted her eyes at me like she wasn’t sure what role I played before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll let him know you’re here,” she said and got up. I turned back around to gauge their reactions.

“You’d think she’d be a little more invested,” Kiara shook her head in annoyance. I just took a deep breath and worked my jaw.

“This better be good.” Shoupe opened the door to his office. A bald man wearing an SBI jacket stared at us from beside the desk, arms crossed. Where Shoupe looked ready to collapse if the air pressure in the room rose the slightest bit, this man looked like he would tell us by exactly what degree it rose.

“I’m Special Agent Bratcher. Sit down, please,” he said, attentive but not entirely offputting. I still didn’t trust him.

“Nah, we’re good thanks,” JJ responded and crossed his arms to match him. Bratcher nodded his understanding.

“Ok, what did you want to talk about?” he asked instead.

“Well, first we were thinking you could tell us a little about what you’ve discovered so far with all your stellar investigative skills,” Pope said, staring them down. His forwardness made me blink twice. JJ had always said he de-escalated conflict. Especially with adults.

“We’re not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation,” Bratcher said, brushing the insult off. “But if you have information that can help, you need to come clean about that. All of you.” His eyes lingered on me, so I met his gaze evenly.

“We’re his family, we deserve to know you’re giving the man who pushed him into that storm what he deserves. And right now, he’s kicking back in his mansion. Which you allowed. So sorry if we’re a little skeptical you haven’t done jack shit, Robocop,” JJ spat with a sneer.

“We have two things to discuss. One is the Royal Merchant gold,” I interjected before they could react. Shoupe frowned.

“Now, don’t you kids start getting in on that, too. That money’s gone and it landed a lot of people in a lot of trouble,” he said, suddenly stern.

“That day on the runway did you think about what Ward was flying out?” Kiara asked. Bratcher shared a look with Shoupe. 

“Yeah,” Pope said after they realized what it meant. “We’ve _been_ in on that.”

“We’re here to make a claim on the Royal Merchant gold. Here is all the documentation that will show they were the ones searching for it and who ultimately found it on Parcel 9 of the previous Tanny Hill Estate, now the Crane Estate. Ward Cameron bought it after figuring out they had found it and flew $400 million worth of gold to the Bahamas with no intention of declaring that money to the federal government. When you find it, this proves you’ll need to return it to them. Not Ward.” I stepped forward to place the manila folder on the desk. Shoupe hastily opened the folder and handed half of the documents to Bratcher. Their eyes flitted over the papers. I cleared my throat.

“And the second thing?” Bratcher asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Ward Cameron didn’t kill Sheriff Peterkin.” Kiara began.

“Rafe did.” Pope finished.

“How do you know?” Shoupe cut through the beat of silence.

“They’ll give you a statement once they’ve contacted their lawyer. But for now, consider it a tip,” I said before anyone else could speak. JJ opened the door, ready to be out of there, but Shoupe spoke up.

“We can get you a lawyer if you want a lawyer. But we need to know more,” he said. I turned to him. All my knowledge of Shoupe was through JJ. Harmless, he always said with his hands behind his head and feet resting on my chair. So I slid the folder he’d set down closer to them and decided to be bold.

“You can investigate without a statement, Shoupe. You and I both know what they’re saying is true. Go make sure you can prove it in court. We’ll give you the statement. But not today and not without an attorney present.”

Then I walked through the door JJ held open for me as he called out for us to wait.

“Bianca, I know we’ve just met really, but that was hot,” Kiara said matter-of-factly as they trailed behind me. Even though my hair stuck to the back of my neck once we left the sanctuary the air-conditioned building provided, I smiled to myself.

“Baller,” Pope agreed.

“Please, Kie, you haven’t even seen her fight Rafe in a red dress. Now, _that_ was hot,” JJ interjected. I told myself the only reason JJ had used that word was because Kie had said it first. 

“I didn’t fight him I kneed his balls and told him to stop,” I said, looking back at him over my shoulder.

“Yeah, and he _listened,_ ” JJ emphasized and rolled his eyes.

“That idiot’s never followed an order in his life,” Pope added on. “Not even from his dad, and he’s terrified of Ward.” I let it go with a shrug, but felt a little proud. Maybe I could keep up with JJ and his friends after all.

“Well, we did most of the legal stuff we could. Did you get the info from your dad, Pope?” I asked as we piled into the car again.

“Yeah, he said it was a bunch of people Ward hired last minute. But that Mr. Summers had been on duty at the runway. He would know who flew the plane and where it went.”

“Then I think we should go.”

Somehow, Pope, Kiara, and JJ knew whose house was whose. Like my kook friends, this island ran in their blood. I wondered if it would ever become a part of mine.

The house was more of a shack than anything else. I was a little nervous about showing up here randomly, but I guessed it was better and less conspicuous than showing up to the actual airstrip. 

“Hi, Mr. Summers,” JJ began. The man that opened the door was tall and portly, with a scraggly beard and ruddy cheeks. Despite his size, he seemed wary. Like somehow we could hurt him.

“Hi, JJ. How are you kids holding up?” he asked and though he appeared genuinely concerned, he didn’t invite us in.

“We’re alright. Can we come inside?” Kiara asked in a voice like honey. He contemplated his answer for longer than I expected, but eventually gave into Kiara’s soothing tone and widened the door. The inside of the house had been ripped from a 70s home improvement catalogue. It might’ve been nice then, but the loud patterns and now-faded colors weren’t doing it any favors in 2020. Still, we sat down on the corduroy couch.

“And who are you? I haven’t seen you around town,” he asked me.

“My name’s Bianca. It’s nice to meet you,” I said with as much kindness as I could muster. People that didn’t know me usually found me intimidating, and we didn’t need this man terrified of us. 

“Nice to meet you too. How’s your dad, Pope?” I forced my face to remain neutral still. We had time for niceties. We really did. I just rarely had the desire to sit through them. JJ nudged my leg as Pope answered, silently telling me to wait. Maybe this was why I’d never connected with the Outer Banks community. I didn’t have enough patience. After Kie finished her update on her dad’s restaurant and we’d entered the second minute of my leg’s bouncing, JJ saved me.

“Mr. Summers, we wanted to ask you something about the day Sheriff Peterkin was shot. When you were managing the lines, who flew Ward Cameron’s plane out?” he asked in a slightly more earnest version of his customer service voice.

“JJ, your friend’s gone. This won’t bring him back,” Mr. Summers said. A hot flash of lightning crackled through me, and I dug my nails into my thighs. He had no right. Absolutely no right to say those words. The least he could do was try to help them move on.

“Mr. Summers, Ward Cameron paid you an exorbitant amount of money to man the private airstrip on a day it was normally not in operation, right? You know now whatever he had in that plane probably wasn’t something legal,” I said, and JJ’s knuckles on my leg gently reminded me to rein my tone back in. I took a breath and forced myself to listen. “But you didn’t know that at the time. You can still get away clean. You just have to let us know who flew the plane and where they were going.”

“Oh, no I don’t want any trouble kids.”

“And you won’t get any. Telling us who flew it only gets you on the right side of the law, Mr. Summers. Transparency is your best option here, sir,” I said, forcing myself to use transparency instead of compliance. “And if I might add, it would mean a great deal to his friends to have some closure.” He mulled my words over, staring at the people on the couch beside me who, to their credit, were looking particularly in need of closure as they trained their eyes on him. He let out a breath that strained the buttons on his stained Hawaiian shirt. 

“The plane was set for Nassau in the Bahamas. Gavin Armstrong had to be called in to fly it after…well, you know,” he relented finally. “But that’s all I know.” Gavin and Ward had meetings every week at the clubhouse. Allegedly business ones, but I’d only ever heard talk of palm trees and ocean breezes when I filled their drinks and brought them their food. So, Ward had planned to share the money. Surprising. 

“Do you know when it’s making the trip back?” Kiara asked.

“They didn’t say. Reckon it won’t be any time soon with everything going on,” he said. I shared a glance with JJ.

Though we now had more answers than we’d started out with, the drive back to the Chateau began heavily.

“That asshole, Armstrong,” Kie growled under her breath, tightening her knuckles on the steering wheel. JJ pocketed his lighter, which he’d been flicking open and shut since we’d left the house, from his seat next to me.

“What now? We can’t go to the Bahamas,” Pope said. He rested his elbow on the door and glared out the shotgun window at the dilapidated houses and empty lots rushing past us.

“I mean, now we know the players,” Kie decided, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. I nodded my agreement.

“Yeah, we know that Ward and Gavin stole the gold and wanted it transferred to offshore accounts to evade taxes. The feds will get that info soon now that they know the gold was on the plane, and then they’ll get the money back. We hope.” I added on. JJ hadn’t said anything other than his thanks to Mr. Summers for the information. He twisted each of his rings twice before finally speaking up.

“Those cops better fucking find them.” His voice reminded me of the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs at the end of the island. Or maybe not those rocks, but the constant clash of waves against them. “And they better drag him back here with the gold.” 

My hands twitched in my lap. I curled them into fists to keep from placing them on his own fidgeting ones. He’d touched me more times than I could count. That was just JJ. Even though it had been barely two weeks since he’d placed his hands on mine to ground me at Midsummers, reciprocating now would somehow feel too loaded. So I kept them firmly in my lap and turned my attention to Kie who was talking about her shift at the Wreck in half an hour.

“Yeah, I’m definitely still grounded. I’m not allowed out past 6 pm, which my dad interprets as 2,” Pope groaned, placing one hand on his temple.

I’d come to like the sight of the Chateau. It had a certain kind of charm. One that made you want to come back again and again. Or maybe that was just its inhabitant.

“Hey, Bianca?” Kiara asked once we parked in the driveway. I turned to her from outside her car as I straightened my blouse. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for us and John B.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” I said with a small smile. “Thanks for being so receptive. This shit is horrible, and I’m glad I can help at least a little.”

“You have to answer your phone now, JJ!” Pope called out as Kiara pulled out of the driveway to drop him off before work. He promised he would, and then it was just us and the heat. I was meant to get into my car and drive back home. We’d accomplished what we’d set out to do. But I could feel JJ’s turmoil even if he didn’t want to vocalize it, growing with the buzz of the cicadas, as if it were my own. My eyes landed on his bike, propped up next to my Jeep, and an idea popped in my head. 

“JJ?”

“What’s up?” he asked too quickly. Almost as if he’d wanted me to find a reason to stay.

“Do you want to go for a drive?”

“Sure.”

“And can we take your bike?” He squinted his eyes at me, as surprised as if I’d asked him to eat a pickle.

“Can we?” I pushed. He cocked his head as he mulled it over, but I knew the answer from the set of his lips. 

“Yeah, if you want. I’ve always wanted to hear you scream,” he agreed with a nod. My breath caught in my throat, shock all too apparent, but he didn’t mention it. Simply gave me a triumphant smirk and darted into the house. I hadn’t recovered enough to even shift my weight by the time he jogged back out with a gray helmet in hand. I managed to gain enough composure to wrinkle my nose at the clunky safety measure, but let him arrange it over my hair anyways.

“Does it feel loose?” he asked. I tilted my head, testing out the weight.

“No, it feels fine.” He scrunched his lips together as if my answer wasn’t satisfactory and shook his head mostly to himself before pulling the strap tighter until it was completely flush against my cheeks. JJ placed his hand on top of the helmet and tilted my head up so I could see him through the visor.

“Tight?” he asked. I nodded dutifully.

“Thank you,” I said, and he put his own helmet on. I braced myself behind him once on the bike and pulled my knees tight against the metal. I wasn’t scared. I’d always wanted to ride a motorcycle, but I knew I would be holding on to the bike the entire drive.

He didn’t move. I didn’t say anything. Maybe he was still getting ready. JJ turned and raised the visor of his helmet, so I could clearly see his single raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

I blinked. “Waiting for you to go? Come on!”

He huffed. “If you think you’re going to get through this without holding onto me, you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

“I wasn’t – I didn’t want you to think – ” I spluttered.

“Arms. Now.” I wrapped them around his torso and scooted closer until personal space became just a word in the dictionary. The rev of the engine struck me as loud even through the helmet.

My grin was almost as instantaneous as our movement.

In seconds we were shooting down the street, somehow against the wind and with it at the same time. I strengthened my grip on him, and hoped he didn’t think it meant he had to slow down.

“You good?” The helmet and the wind muffled my confirmation, but I made sure to exaggerate my nod so he would feel the movement on his back.

I was great. Phenomenal, even.

This way of moving through life felt novel, but right. The wind was harsh, sure, but it felt more like an old friend urging you to wear a new outfit or jump into the deep end with them. It told us this was what it meant to be free.

I’d never seen the island like this before.

The trees I’d driven past a million times filtering the sunlight from above and the coastline I’d memorized whipping past us suddenly sang to me. I didn’t try to pick apart every detail, but rather let myself bask in their enchantment.

I’d asked JJ to do a lot of hoping for one person, much less him, so this was meant to give him time to process. That was the only reason I had asked to take a drive. Not because I wanted an excuse to be close to him again. Not because I wasn’t sure I had the guts to pick through the debris this week’s storm had left in my mind. Tree branches longer than my body littered the ground now, and doors I’d never seen before hung from their hinges, hinting at the possibility of another path for JJ and me.

 _“Deny, deny, deny.”_ JJ had reminded me when Ross had discovered my $17 pasta dish at the end of one of our shifts (exactly $4 over the budgeted cost per club employee). It had been my mantra with most things. Deny I ever had any issues of my own so my mom could focus on work. Deny that I was unhappy with the friends I’d clung to since middle school.

Deny that JJ Maybank had always been more to me than a friend from work.

It had arguably worked my entire life. Might’ve been considered bulletproof if not for one (until now) tiny chink in the armor. Somewhere along the way of denying my feelings to everyone but myself, I had developed a subconscious ability to simply stop them before they became an overwhelming problem.

All those experiences and sentiments I’d deemed too much – deemed too great a threat to my survival – may have had the potential of destroying me, but constantly fighting them was exhausting. Fury, joy, grief, fear, and…and maybe love had been watered down such that it was hard to tell if I ever really felt them. That thought was more terrifying than any potential backlash from daring to pursue a life I enjoyed.

Life wasn’t measured and precise. If I really believed that, my years on Figure 8 had made me go full kook.

So, when JJ pulled over near a secluded cove where the wave caps glittered beneath the sun, my movements were decisive. I tugged my helmet off, ignoring as best I could that my hair now formed a mess of knots and tangles that would surely follow me to the grave, and hung it on the handles.

I reached up to knock lightly on the side of his helmet.

“Can you take this off?”

“Why? Maybe I like it on.” He teased.

“Because I want to kiss you, and it’s in my way.”

JJ tore at the strap. His hands found my cheeks before his helmet even hit the ground. I stood on tiptoes, grabbed his own jaw, and smacked my lips on his.

I expected fireworks. Explosions. Electricity in my veins. Divine as his lips were, my body did not ascend to the heavens. Instead, my feet pressed against the ground more surely than before.

All I felt was satisfaction. An urgent conviction that this was right. The sky was blue. I was 16 years old. The tide was high. And JJ and I were kissing.

I pulled back after a moment to look at him. I barely had time to appreciate the swell of his lips before he pulled my body closer.

“No,” he said, voice husk.

“No?” I asked, feeling my conviction falter. Had I made a mistake?

“No, you can’t just give me one kiss. More.”

Contradictions riddled his lips. Soft and rough, gentle and demanding. I wanted to unravel each one. To spend my days figuring out every single way to describe JJ Maybank. And I thought maybe I might fly this time. Maybe there were such things as shooting stars and kisses that were really just explosions because my lungs shuddered as they fought to keep going and a soft ache swelled in my stomach, and I cherished it all. Because finally I didn’t have to stop myself from feeling it.

This time he pulled away, but I wasn’t ready to stop. So I stole enough air to tell him “more” and dragged him back down again.

He was all too willing.

JJ pushed my hair behind my ears and rest his forehead against mine when we were done. His palms rubbed up and down my arm, and I didn’t mind the extra heat despite the afternoon sun.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice more soothing than the waves behind us.

“When have I ever been wrong?” I shot back with a grin.

We took the long way home. 


	7. Solve for x, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JJ and Bianca come to an agreement that has dangerous consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, I hate my writing. That is all I’m saying this chapter. But please still tell me what you think and ty for all your support. 
> 
> Warnings: swearing, canon typical mentions of domestic abuse, violence, poor pacing and structure

There was a bullet hole in my window.

The glass hadn’t shattered. Instead, it had allowed the bullet to pass clean through and leave behind a small jagged circle that whispered over and over if I’d been a few inches over, it would be my own skin with a hole in it. Even as I tore my eyes away from it to the boy that needed my help, I could feel it searing a target into my shoulder. 

_Earlier that Day:_

Sundays were my favorite days to work. The kooks all came in with their seersucker and floral prints and could be counted on to raise some complaint about the heat in the atrium after specifically requesting to be seated with a view of the ocean, sure. But after our shifts, JJ and I always split one savory breakfast item and one sweet one and traded our funniest quotes from the day. I had been scheduled today, but JJ had convinced me to call in sick and relocate our Sunday ritual to the beach. 

The sun hadn’t entirely blazed through the leftover morning ocean fog yet, but I tied my hair up into a ponytail in anticipation. He sat beside me in the trunk of my Jeep that overlooked the cove we’d parked near to enjoy our brunch and crumpled up the wrapper for his half of the egg sandwich we’d shared. I almost took another bite of my half of our pancake stack but set my fork down and spoke instead.

“Are you sure you have to go?” I tore my eyes from the waves crashing against the sand to look at him. He had just told me he needed to go back to his house. It had been almost three weeks since the authorities had contacted his dad about his boat sinking, and JJ thought something was wrong. Luke should’ve come searching for him at the Chateau, ready to tear him apart. I’d had to lock my spine when he said that to keep myself from shuddering. 

“B, you showed up to help me in a storm after I yelled at you for trying to help my best friend. If you can do that, then I have to – ”

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to him, JJ. You are not your father.” I snapped.

“I know. I know it’s not the same thing. But it’s still true. I have to check on him. I can’t stop myself. Besides I need my shit. Wearing his clothes…” JJ cut himself off this time and shivered. I pursed my lips. He didn’t want to wear John B’s clothes any more than he’d wanted to sleep in his bed. 

“Fine. Fine. But I’m going with you.” I decided. He snorted softly.

“And all two feet of you are going to what? Fight him off?”

“So then you do think he’s going to hit you,” I said in the lawyer voice I’d learned from my mom and refined in debate instead of taking the bait about my height. Maybe it was unfair of me to use, but it didn’t make me any less right.

He looked away and tossed the wrapper into the trash can a few feet away from us. It made it in, but only after following a dejected arc. “No, man. I don’t know. The last time we talked…” JJ trailed off almost hopefully, rubbing his face with his hands. “Shit, what am I talking about? He’s not different. He never changes. But I still have to go.”

“Will you look at me?” I asked. He did, and the years of exhaustion that lined his face that dulled its normal golden tint stopped me short. I wanted to take them all away. Burn down that house with Luke Maybank in it and heal every single wound. But all I could actually do was be there with him. “I’m going with you. If you really have to do this, and I still wish you wouldn’t, I’m going with you.” His jaw twitched.

“Fine, but you stay in the car,” he said. I inhaled. That was reasonable. I wasn’t family, wasn’t even really his girlfriend. I shouldn’t interfere if JJ was actually just going to get his clothes. And if I heard any sign of a fight, my trusty Jeep might just find herself halfway through Luke Maybank’s wall.

“Okay, but if he even hints at hurting you, you scream my name and run. I don’t care if you have your clothes or not, just get out, okay, JJ? Promise me.” 

“Promise.” He wrapped his pinky finger around mine, but it wasn’t enough to ease the tension from my shoulders. I shoved the syrup-doused pancakes into my mouth in an effort to overpower the sour taste that had crept in when JJ mentioned Luke. JJ bumped my arm with his own, silently asking for a bite. I forced myself to play along and scowl. My turmoil wouldn’t help lessen his own.

“You finished your half already,” I protested, mouth still half full. He pouted in response, and I rolled my eyes with a groan. I shoved a bite at him, and he snatched it out of the air with his teeth, giving me a side-eyed glare that eventually subsided into happy chewing.

“Thanks, bro,” he chirped and followed his words through by teasingly licking the syrup off my lips before kissing me. His lips on mine felt just as right as that first time.

“Welcome, dude,” I said after I’d pulled back. I placed my hand in his and squeezed. I couldn’t tell which one of us was actually succeeding in buttering the other up.

An eerie calm surrounded JJ’s house. It was a Sunday afternoon so it made sense that the streets were mostly empty, but poison still simmered in my stomach at the quiet. I parked squarely in front of the door so Luke would know someone else was watching. My toes curled inside my shoes.

“Will you please let me go in with you?” I asked for the last time even though I knew the answer.

“Not a chance.” JJ shook his head, pocketing his lighter.

“JJ. I’m serious.”

“Congrats, babe,” he said drily. “Stay here. I mean it.” He gave me a pointed look and only opened the door after I’d nodded. JJ shook his shoulders at the front door as if preparing for a big game and turned the key in the lock. And then the house swallowed him.

I tried to tear my eyes away from the door to the trees across the street, but not watching only churned my insides more. _I had to respect what he wanted. I had to respect what he wanted._ My fingers repeatedly thrummed every syllable on the driver’s wheel. JJ knew how to navigate his dad and his house better than I would. If I interfered now, I would only make things worse. Still, my ears had never been on higher alert, straining to hear even the slightest hint of violence.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck, sending a shudder through me. I was sure it had been an hour since the last time I saw the only good product of that house. Maybe Luke was asleep. It was still barely past noon. There were days when I didn’t wake up till 1. I pressed my body further into the seat as if that would keep me from getting up. Finally, I decided to send him a text. He responded immediately saying everything was fine, and his dad was, in fact, passed out. I let out a breath and forced myself to take another one. Everything was fine.

JJ Maybank was a gift. How he managed to walk straight into his abuser’s lair and come out with that trademark grin escaped me. Not a scratch. Every strand of gold on his head remained perfectly out of place. My own lips stretched into genuine joy as I unlocked the trunk for him.

“What did I tell you, huh, B? He’s fine. Drunk as shit, but still breathing.” JJ’s voice came through the back as he shoved his duffle bag and backpack inside before closing the trunk. It didn’t escape me that he did so as gently as possible, but it didn’t matter because he was here and he was safe.

“What you doing, boy? Who’s that pretty girl? She help you steal my boat?”

My heart seized.

Luke Maybank stood in his doorway with a yellowing shirt and a mean glare on his face. Nothing in it resembled any of JJ’s features. Even if certain angles seemed the same, this man’s aggression severed any continuity.

“JJ, get in the car. Get in the car, now.” I ordered, my foot ready to slam on the gas once he was inside. JJ turned around slowly to face his dad who now staggered down the steps.

“Hey, dad,” JJ said. “Almost didn’t recognize you off your ass.” My eyes widened, and I hissed his name.

“Get your ass out of here. And don’t come back.” Luke Maybank’s voice was empty. It didn’t crave boiling points like Barry’s. It wasn’t the soothing ferocity of ocean and rock like JJ’s. No, Luke Maybank did not care about his son.

And he proved it as he raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.

My arms came up with a shriek to shield my face even though the bullet had already left its chamber. I jumped as the car door slammed, and JJ suddenly hissed at me to _go, go_! Jell-O would’ve been more solid than my limbs at this point, but I managed to press the gas down hard enough to lurch us forward. JJ’s name erratically spouted from my lips like a broken fountain. It was all I could do until I deemed we’d driven far enough and shakily pulled us over. I forced myself to look at him.

“Are you okay?” His face blurred for some reason. But I didn’t make out any pools of red on his white shirt. I reached out to hold his face so it would stop shaking, but then I realized my arms were the ones trembling.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Fuck, shit. Fuck, _fuck_. Are you? Did he hit you?” JJ’s hands engulfed mine, the metal of his rings adding a comforting weight. I shook my head but looked down at myself just to make sure. 

“No. No, I think I’m fine,” I whispered. I blinked a few times, and my eyes landed past him.

There was a bullet hole in my window.

The glass hadn’t shattered. Instead, it had allowed the bullet to pass clean through and leave behind a small jagged circle that whispered over and over if I’d been a few inches over, it would be my own skin with a hole in it. Even as I tore my eyes away from the hole to the boy that needed my help, I could feel it searing a target into my shoulder. 

His leg bounced so hard it shook my Jeep, and I reached for his hand, but he tore it away. A few stray tears followed the outline of his jaw to drip onto his shorts.

“JJ,” was all I could manage to whisper.

“Take us to the Chateau,” he said in a voice that was not his own. I could do that. For JJ, I could drive us to the Chateau. I tried to inhale, but my lungs weren’t working correctly. “Do you need me to drive?” he asked, and this time his voice was as smooth as dawn. Suddenly, he was the eye of the storm, and I shook my head in the clarity it provided.

“No, I can drive,” I placed my hands back on the wheel and pulled us back on the road. The drive to the Chateau had become something soothing. It always led me back to JJ, so by the time we made it into the driveway, the North Carolina vegetation had allowed me to wrangle my nerves in a tight, but neat ball and secure them safely in the pit of my stomach where they wouldn’t bother anyone but me. JJ slammed the door and marched into the house without saying anything. I locked the car before rushing to meet him. He’d cleaned up most of the trash since the first time I’d been here, but the last straggling beer bottles rolled cacophonouslyas he stormed back out the hall with a gun in his hand.

“What the _fuck,_ JJ?”

“I’m going to kill him,” he snarled.

“JJ, put the gun down. Put the fucking gun down, right now!” I screeched as my heart shook, and he brushed past me and out the door.

“JJ.” My voice was too soft. Too weak. Should I scream? Should I scream so loud he’d listen or would it startle him into setting off the gun? He turned around to face me, face too rigid for my liking. 

“He almost killed you, Bianca! He almost killed you. That bullet had your name on it, and you know it!” he roared shaking his head as he stalked closer. His words made me think back to our positions when his dad had shot the gun. He was right. Luke Maybank hadn’t wanted to hurt JJ. He’d wanted to make him hurt. But it didn’t matter. Because the gun in his hand could achieve Luke’s goals at any second.

“You’re not going to kill him. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this is happening to you! But that gun isn’t going to do anything for you. I need you to put it down now. _Please._ _”_ JJ knew my pride rarely allowed for begging. So his spine locked in realization, and he slowly placed it in the grass. He locked eyes finally with me, and I watched his resolve shatter into shards of blue ice as he realized what he’d been about to do and what it had done to me.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m sorry. Bianca, I’m so sorry. Can…can I touch you?” he asked. I locked my jaw, but whispered a yes. His steps came slow, careful to avoid the gun he’d placed on the floor, and he hesitated as he raised his arms to wrap around me until I nodded that he could. And then he collapsed, and I let our knees hit the ground.

“I thought he would…He just watched me. Just watched me pack my shit up…and, and then he came out like I was nothing. I’ve always been nothing, but this…” he hiccupped. I squeezed him tighter, trying not to replay the scenes in my head.

“You have never been nothing. Never.” I whispered into his ear fiercely. “You are everything, and he doesn’t deserve you, honey. Not even a little bit.” His heartbeat thrummed through my body, stronger than any of his sobs, and my own heart pounded at my chest in time, as if they were each trying to reach the other. His pain may not have been my own. But his heart certainly sang the same blues.

“Did…did I scare you?” he asked after a few minutes, pushing my hair out of my face so he could watch me answer. I clamped my jaw tighter. I didn’t want to say yes. Doing so would hurt him, make him hate himself. But he also wouldn’t believe any lie I gave him right now.

“A little,” I said. He managed to keep his face devoid of the pain I knew that confession caused. “Not really you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. But, the gun, yeah. You with it.” I trailed off, unwilling to meet his eyes anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m – fuck, Bianca. I’m so sorry. I got us into this stupid mess. Got you shot at,” he pulled away and suddenly that anger and self-loathing resurfaced. I wanted us to be light. We’d only been whatever we were for about a week. I wanted a few more weeks of Sunday brunches and windy bike rides before we got to the severity of what brewed inside me. Before I gave him limits that he may not have the stability to meet yet.

“Don’t take ownership for something you can’t control, JJ. I’m not going to accept those apologies because they’re not yours to give,” I said and licked my lips. My next words sliced my throat on their way out. But if I kept them inside, they might be fatal. “But pick that gun up again with the intent to use it, and I leave. I’m not doing that shit. Do you understand?”

He stared at me for a long moment. The blood from the incisions trickled down my throat with each passing second. “Okay. I won’t. Promise, B,” he whispered, and the bleeding stopped. “Do you believe me?” I nodded and placed a kiss on his lips to prolong the relief his words gave me.

“You good to drive again?” he asked when I stopped.

“Yeah, why?”

“Let’s go get your window fixed. I know a guy that’ll do it cheap so your mom doesn’t find out,” he said, and pulled me back up to my feet so we could go.

Two hours later, Kiara, JJ, and I were fighting over the fries Pope had left behind at The Wreck after he’d had to leave our dinner together early because of his new curfew. Well, JJ and Kie were fighting over them while I munched on JJ’s newly unguarded pile.

“So,” she began after he’d accepted Kiara’s offer of free ice cream in exchange for the remaining fries. I swallowed, anticipating some warning or deep question about JJ. “Have you started any of your summer homework?” I let out a soft snort and shook my head.

“Oh, absolutely not. Haven’t even bought the books, have you?”

“Nope, I’ll probably just SparkNotes them,” she said and took an unbothered sip of her water. I nodded along, unwilling to admit that I’d never SparkNotes’ed an entire book. She smiled a little. “You don’t have to agree, I know you’re going to read it and get a perfect score.”

“Okay, I’m going to _try_ to read it,” I said a little embarrassed I had such a reputation even though we’d barely interacted in our classes together. I bit my lip, hoping she wouldn’t think I was too conceited, before voicing my second thought. “But, you’re right, I am going to get a perfect score.” Kie burst into laughter that popped the bubble in my chest. “Teachers love me, what can I say?” I shrugged.

“I have a question for you, though,” I said. “Do you like _anyone_ at our school?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” She said, resting her chin on her hand. I grinned and asked her about her thoughts on the Bradley Greensborough debacle, which she eagerly flamed him for. I’d always known she had an arsenal I’d one day want to hear.

“So what’s the agenda for tonight, ladies?” JJ interrupted, handing me my cookies and cream and Kie her strawberry ice cream as he slid into his seat.

“Ways to kill or seriously maim JJ Maybank,” I quipped.

“We’re on item 100,” Kiara added on with sweet smile, and JJ whispered that he missed Pope.

I’d convinced JJ to stay at my place for a few days in case his dad decided he wanted to finish what he’d started, and he now lay on my bed, scrolling through his phone and rubbing lazy circles into my hand on his chest. His sprawled out limbs and the slight pucker of his lips carried all the idyllic peace the ocean had gifted us with that morning despite everything that had happened since then. I didn’t want to ruin it, but I also couldn’t shake off a few details from the showdown with his dad. I wanted to be wrong about them. But if JJ was the ocean, then I was the sand. There was no part of him I did not know. No part of him I couldn’t figure out eventually. And this part had to be addressed.

“You wanted a confrontation didn’t you?” I asked him. He stopped scrolling.

“What do you mean?”

“With your dad. You didn’t get in the car when he came out. You stayed, and then you snapped at him. You wanted him to get mad,” I continued tentatively. Sand or not. This was uncharted territory. His hands’ continued tracing across my own provided my only solace through his silence as he stared at the ceiling.

“I guess,” he paused. “I guess I wanted him to do something. To say something about me. Even, even if it was bad. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?” I shifted so I could face him completely in the bed.

“It’s understandable. He’s your dad, even if he’s a shitty one,” I whispered, and because I could feel the waves of guilt rolling over him as he realized he’d intentionally provoked Luke, I continued. “Hey, he came out that door with the gun in his hand. You didn’t get him to do anything he hadn’t already planned to, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, B,” he said and pressed his lips to my hand. And I’d gotten through that without any burns, so I decided to press my luck further.

“JJ, do I distract you?” He turned his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is that a real question?”

“Yes. Do I demand your attention? Do I distract you?” I repeated.

“Well, yeah, obviously. You’re…yeah. You distract me, Morales,” he said.

“Good. Then the next time you feel like you can’t handle shit, will you tell me? Don’t think I didn’t hear about what you’ve been doing to yourself, JJ. It stopped being about having fun, and you know it.” I finished boldly. His fingers stilled on mine and his rings suddenly felt too hot against my skin, but I waited for him to say something to ease my worries.

“Why, think you can fix me up? Isn’t that what they tell girls you can’t do to a guy?” He winced as soon as he said it. I winced a little too, but only internally.

“No.” I said. “I’m not the answer to your problems, and you’re not the answer to mine. To be honest, the jury’s still out on whether or not you can be considered as not a problem,” I turned his chin so he could see my teasing grin if he couldn’t hear it in my voice. “But I’d like to be there while you figure them out. I don’t know. I think I’m pretty smart.”

He allowed me a small grin. “Oh, my jury’s decided. You’re _definitely_ a problem, Bianca Morales.” His lips found mine again, warm and playful. “One of Pope’s math problems.” I wrinkled my nose.

“Did you just compare me to math?” I pulled back. He barked out a laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re, uh, poetry. And sonnets. And, um, fucking iambic pentameter, I think.”

“You say that like they’re different things,” I said with a smile.

“You know what? I take it back. You are a math problem. A nasty one. Not a good look, B,” he said with an accusatory frown.

“Be careful, Maybank,” I said, sliding my knee across his waist and settling myself on his hips. “Your way with words might just make me swoon. Can’t have people thinking I’ve gone soft.” His hands settled on my waist, tracing a line of fire all the way up past my shoulder blades and into my hair as I leaned down to plant my lips on his cheeks, his chin, and finally his mouth.

Once he’d finally gone to sleep, I stared at his silhouette in the darkness. I’d meant every word I said. JJ Maybank wasn’t the answer to my problems.

I just wished he didn’t fit the mold so well.


	8. Bleach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianca learns a new skill and Rose Cameron stirs up trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the scene with the bike ride is lowkey based off of my friend who tried to teach me how to ride a bike when I realized I’d forgotten how this year. I never learned cause the bike was too tall and I was too scared so I had to look up a wikihow article dont come for me. also I LOVE Rose Cameron and just wanted to write about her. anyways I really hope you guys like this and as always please please come talk to me about it!

A shriek and slap jerked me out of my sleep.

“What? What’s wrong?” I jolted upright. He’d thrown the sheets up and over my body in his scramble, and his shoulders were now rigid. Bucky’s tail flicked up, eyes lasered in on JJ’s face.

“This _demon_ just hissed at me!” JJ said, shrinking into my side, but pushing me away when Bucky hopped over him to curl up on my chest.

“Just go back to sleep, he’s not going to hurt you,” I mumbled, shoving my cat near the wall and reaching out for JJ again only to find empty space. I opened one eye again. He stood straight up, eyes comically wide. 

“Nah, that thing is vile. He’ll kill me for sure,” JJ said, inching slowly away from the bed. “Why didn’t you say you had a cat?” I groaned into the pillow. All I wanted was a few more hours of sleep after having stayed up way too late locking lips with JJ.

“I’ve literally told you about him a million times. You just only ever care about my Lola stories,” I said. “Please, come back to bed. I’m so tired.” His side of the bed already felt colder.

“Go back to sleep, babe,” he whispered and risked attack by pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll make breakfast if you keep that thing here.” I mumbled a “deal” and rolled back over, allowing Bucky to rub his sandpaper tongue across my hand.

Lola adored JJ. When I finally gained the strength to tug myself out of bed and down the stairs, she sat in the kitchen, eyes fully trained on his every movement by the stove while her tail swept the floor. I scratched her head, expecting her to jump and try to lick my face like she normally did, but she only nuzzled deeper into my hand for a second before angling back so she could maintain her watch.

Traitor.

I stood on tiptoes to rest my chin on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around JJ’s middle. I wouldn’t lie. The cinnamon and butter from the French toast in the pan definitely helped the fact that he’d woken me up before noon.

“Smells bad anyways,” I teased after he knocked my head off his shoulder and opened the pantry for the syrup. For a family with an average height of five feet and two inches, we had an irrational habit of placing commonplace items on the top shelf. But, I managed to snag it down and set it on the table along with two plates just as he turned the flame off. 

He didn’t think I noticed him honing in on the chair across from him like he might challenge it to a fight while I fed Lola. The moment he registered that I had stood back up, he blinked and his signature smile blinded me once more. I wondered if he’d hidden his pain with Pope and Kie, too, or if it was just me that didn’t merit the chance to hear his worries.

I’d noticed the scorching glares the entire week. When I was looking somewhere else or appeared occupied, he’d sometimes zone out but not in a relaxing way. His jaw would always clench and his eyebrows always stitched together. All I knew about the week and a half after John B and Sarah had died was what Pope and Kie told me about the blackouts and bruises and scathing words he’d hurled at them the few times they’d seen him. What had he done when they weren’t around? How many times had he tested the weight of the gun in his hands and fantasized about bullets through someone else’s head?

I returned his smile and pulled my chair out.

“Do you clip your pet demon’s nails?” JJ asked, keeping his eyes trained behind me. I turned to find Bucky giving him a mean glare. This time I had to admit, if Bucky knew the English language at all, murder had been the first word he’d learned.

“He’s not going to do anything to you.” I rolled my eyes. “Eat up, buttercup. You said you’d take me to the bookstore today.”

My Jeep, Francesca, still had a few more days before she was all patched up and ready for me to drive. And I needed some more books to read at the beach. So after breakfast, and two more alleged “near death” experiences with Bucky, we made our way out of the house through the garage.

“Maybe I should make you ride that thing like us pogues instead of giving you free rides everywhere,” JJ said as I prepared to close the garage door. I followed his gaze to the pale blue bike leaning against the wall.

“Try it, see what happens,” I said and ignored his glare. “Nah, I should probably sell it.” 

“What? No way. Keep it. What if something happens to the Jeep while your mom’s gone and you can’t get anywhere?”

I shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” JJ narrowed his eyes, looking back to the bike and then at me again.

He knew.

“Bianca, you know how to ride a bike, right?”

“I mean, I have ridden a bike, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. I did know how to ride a bike. With training wheels. At age six.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. You don’t know how to ride a bike!” he practically screeched. “How do you not know?”

“I don’t know! I only ever rode one with training wheels when I was six, and then my mom bought me this oneand said I could use it!” I snapped. “It’s just…” His features softened.

“Ok, well, I’ll teach you. Come on,” he said and grabbed my hand to tug me towards it.

The bike was deceptively pretty. Like it’s leather banana seat couldn’t possibly hurt me. JJ nodded at me to mount it once he’d lowered it all the way down, and I wrapped my hands around the handle and tried hiking my leg over it. After I’d managed to situate myself, I didn’t straighten up. If I did, I’d topple over.

“It needs to be lower, my feet can’t touch the floor, JJ,” I said, turning to face him.

“Uh, I pushed it as far as it would go, babe.”

I grumbled under my breath. My mom had thought I would “grow into it” when she bought it for me in seventh grade. Except I hadn’t grown since then. I looked around to see if any of our neighbors’ gardeners were out. Thankfully not.

“Here. I’ll hold it,” he said and wrapped his hands securely over mine. His voice came surprisingly soothing as he guided my feet to the pedals. We met each other’s eyes. 

“Okay, good. Now, just pedal, and you’ll take off. You’ve got it.” He encouraged. I had never realized JJ had such a capacity for…patience. His voice had never sounded so sincere. So devoid of teasing malice. I murmured a cautious okay and tried to push forward. But my stomach pitched at the wobbly movement, demanding I stop right now, and I tilted the bike so I could rest my heel uncomfortably on flat ground with a strangled noise.

“Nope. No. I don’t think I need to learn, JJ,” I said, twisting to see his face. “I’m good really.” It was not lined with exasperation. Instead, he smiled.

“No, that was good! Just keep going this time, you had it, honey,” he said and came back to steady the bike for me. I adjusted my foot back to the six o’clock position he’d instructed me worked best earlier and inhaled. He nodded. “Good. Now, just push off with that foot and start pedaling. The faster you go, the easier it’ll be.” I swallowed, tightened my hands on the handles, and tried to shove off of the ground. It worked, and I was moving forward. And at a slight angle that led directly into my neighbor’s mailbox.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I stuttered to a stop and groaned. “Okay, I think that was enough. I’m good. I’ll sell it.” A car turned the corner and the driver stared us down, visibly unimpressed. I tried dismounting the bike as if I’d done it a million times before as my cheeks heated at suddenly having a critical audience. JJ lifted his chin and mumbled a standoffish “morning” to the driver as he passed us by. He didn’t let me steer the bike back into the house. Instead, JJ, king of keggers and apparently honeyed words, coaxed me back onto the death-trap-in-training, until after a series of even more hiccups, the bike and I were sailing down the street as one.

“That’s my girl!” he whooped from behind me as I released an elated shriek with my turn.

The breeze my motion created gently kissed my cheeks with each passing second, tiding me over until I could make it back to JJ. A giant grin lit up his face. With both his hands on his hips and the sun’s rays blessing his already sculpted arms with generous highlights, he looked every bit a god of summer. And he must’ve harbored some divinity in that golden heart of his if he’d managed to get me gliding down my street in front of all the neighbors that made my lips curl after years of ignoring this bike and all its implications.

In that moment, framed in pale blue skies and dusted with wispy clouds, summer found a home in me. Maybe I had imagined the intensity of his gaze on unimportant objects. Maybe the white knuckles and the jut of his chin at odd moments could be brushed aside as everyday muscular adjustments. JJ Maybank didn’t have to be anything more pressing than supercuts of asphalt and pristine lawns and cherry red lips.

His arms around me were only slightly slick with the North Carolina humidity. I brushed the protest I normally would’ve given aside and deepened our victory kiss.

“Thank you, JJ,” I said, looking straight into his eyes. He blinked once slowly, as one thumb made its way across my jaw. JJ understood what the dust on the bike had meant to me and exactly what man had been around for its training wheel version.

By the time we made it back from the bookstore with two bags, it was dinnertime. Neither Kie or Pope could get away from their parents for the evening, so JJ and I ate alone on the grass in my backyard. He practically moaned into his next bite.

“You said your grandma taught you how to make these?” he asked, waving the last bit of his shredded beef taquito in the air. The motion knocked a dollop of guacamole back to his plate. 

“Mhmm, Mama Meli, short for Amelia,” I offered and eyed him up and down. “She would’ve loved you. Especially if you’d downed 6 of her taquitos in ten minutes.”

“Huh, kinda like Mama L,” he said and trailed off, furrowing his brow. “She asked about me yet?”

“It’s all she asks me about,” I said, rolling my eyes. “They all ask about you, but I had to tell them to stop saying your name because it just made Ross angrier.” JJ nodded for me to continue with the answer to his unspoken question about our manager while he ate. “Yeah, Ross is pretty pissed, but I’ve been convincing him you still need time. Which, if you do, you should take it. But if not, it might be best to get back so he doesn’t hate you even more?” JJ licked his fingers.

“Shit, yeah. I need to go back. Before he kicks me out.”

So the next day, JJ and I rode to my work shift on the back of his bike. Abby’s broken gasp greeted us first. She wasted no time in wrangling JJ down to her height so she could suffocate him in her hug and whisper a stream of pet names in his ears. JJ covered up the extent of his response by nuzzling further into her straight black hair, so when she finally allowed him up for air, his cheeks were dry.

“Alright, Abby, the kid’s got to breathe sometime,” Tommy cut in, dragging JJ out of her arms once they’d loosened enough. She gave him a sweet nudge. If Tommy’s characteristic hair tousle was a little more fervent, JJ didn’t say anything. I smiled. He deserved this. These people adored him like he was their own, and he needed to know it. Even Nestor, normally so soft-spoken, patted JJ on the shoulder and offered him one of the fries he’d just cooked before he went to speak with Ross.

I stopped short as I opened the door to the dining room when I realized exactly which head of pristine blonde hair awaited me in my section. Rose Cameron. My fingers tightened on the water pitcher. She wouldn’t drink it, but a meltdown would ensue if I did not adorn the table with a perfectly dewy glass.

Rose was the kind of person I might like in a reality TV show for her egotistical outbursts and shady one-liners, but found exhausting and rude in real life. I respected that she’d gone for Ward and his money. I really did. JJ and I had made up thousands of stories over how their first encounter had gone down, and at the end of each one, we couldn’t deny she’d had to have made some baller moves. But now, her proximity to not one, but two, murderers put me on edge. Did she know about my part in launching the investigation into Rafe?

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron, how are you doing today?” I forced myself to ask with false brightness. She looked up at me and flattened her magenta lips.

“Fine. I’ll take a cosmopolitan, too.” She said eying the glass of water I was filling with as deep a wrinkle as her skin would allow.

“Okay, I’ll bring that right out for you,” I responded and set her water down. Back in the kitchens, JJ greeted me with a grin, finishing up the bowtie on his busser’s uniform.

“Back and reporting for duty.” I smiled and met his raised hand with my own in a satisfying slap.

“Nice!” I congratulated him. “I just sat Rose Cameron, so watch out.” JJ rolled his eyes.

“Not like she can hurt me in here, B. I’ll be fine,” he said, stealing a quick peck as he passed me by on his way out. Tommy’s sly grin could not be ignored. I tried anyways.

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said as I punched in Rose’s drink and avoided his gaze.

“For?”

“For pushing you two together. Literally. Every time I got JJ to pull you out of my way, I knew you were one step closer to love,” he shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe he was just that good.

“Trust me, that was not the pivotal moment in our relationship, Tommy,” I said with a small laugh.

“But it was the start!” he called out as I left to ask Abby to make Rose’s drink for me at the bar.

“Hey, can I get a cosmo, please?” I asked. She bit her lip.

“Sure thing, hun. Do you know what that’s about?” she asked, jutting her chin to the atrium where JJ and Ross stood by Rose’s table. My stomach plummeted _. Shit._ As I got closer, I could make out the distinct tinny quality of Rose’s complaint voice, always as if it was gracing you from a gilded mansion atop a mountain.

_“I’m sorry I just don’t understand how you can feel secure with the state of this club when there are criminals serving premium club members, Ross.”_ Ross gave a heavy sigh once I made it to table and asked what was going on.

“Well, Ross here was just in the process of letting go of some problematic staff members, weren’t you?” Rose said, brushing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder. My eyes widened as they met JJ’s. This was not happening. No. This could not happen. He looked at me with a firm set to his jaw, urging me not to say anything.

“Come on, Ross. You know I didn’t do anything. I’m paying back the restitution, man,” JJ said and rolled his shoulders back.

Ross didn’t hesitate. His pockets were lined by the likes of the Camerons and the Greensboroughs. Murderers and thieves that manipulated money but never worked for it. If they wanted the sun to stop shining or the hardwood floors a different shade of rich, he jumped.

“JJ, you’re fired –”

“Ross, you can’t do this.” I cut in. JJ could not be fired. He belonged here. More than any other kook. These walls carried the unmistakable sound of his laughter. A messy J marked his spot in the beat up wood table in the back. There wasn’t a single inch of this place that didn’t carry a nostalgic haze from some memory we had together. I wasn’t ready for them to become ghosts.

“Bianca, stop.” JJ warned.

“Bianca, I think Mrs. Cameron is waiting on her drink, isn’t she?” Ross frowned at the water on her table and back at me. JJ hissed my name before I opened my mouth again. “JJ, you’re fired. Clean out your locker and go.”

“No. Ross. Ward is literally under house arrest. You can’t do this.” I interjected. This could not be happening. This was JJ’s only steady job. The rest were all side hustles: mowing lawns, grocery runs for Heyward, the occasional surfing lesson. None of them were enough to sustain him in the long run. I knew all of this, but still a voice whispered in my ear that I should keep my mouth shut. I might also wind up unemployed. But what was this job without JJ? “I’m a club member, too. I feel unsafe with a Cameron in here. You can’t. Ross, you can’t.”

“Her drink. _Now._ ”

I stared between the three of them. Rose’s smug smile. Ross’ twitching mustache. And JJ. JJ, who was urging me not to risk my job any further, despite the fact that Rose Cameron had just pushed him off a cliff with a knife in his back. My lips twitched unable to keep up my customer service smile, and my blood roared in my ears. I forced myself to swallow the angry knot in my throat and inhale instead, before marching back to the bar.

I couldn’t meet Abby’s eyes as she handed me the petal-colored drink. When I turned back around, Ross still stoodplacating Rose and JJ had disappeared. Miraculously, my hands didn’t shake as I set her martini glass down.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t even give me that look. I don’t care about you, just your dirty little rat friend.” Rose rolled her eyes and savored the alcohol.

I was meant to keep my mouth shut. The path forward if I kept my lips sealed was clear: she’d finish up her meal, I’d grit my teeth, find JJ afterwards, and life would go on. My mom wouldn’t chew my ear out when she inevitably heard about it. Ross wouldn’t contemplate firing me on the spot. The path forward if I spoke the barbed words in my mouth was hazy and lined with thorny what ifs.

I opened my mouth.

“I was born on the Cut, just like JJ and just like your husband. Before you think it’s geography that brings out the dirt in people, I’d ask yourself which one of us will be rotting in a prison cell for murder by the end of the year. You might have a stain in your life that’s harder to bleach out than your roots.” My eyes flitted up and down her figure in the span of a second. “Though it looks like those are getting a bit difficult, too.”

“Go home, Bianca. Now.” I was already untying my apron.

JJ’s sneer hadn’t dissipated by the time I got back to the locker room. The clang of metal reverberated across the room as he yanked an old cap out of his barely used locker and shoved it into his backpack.

“Hey,” I murmured, resting a hand on his back. He whirled around and dragged his hands down his face as he realized why I was back here and not taking Rose’s order.

“What did you say, B?” he asked, giving me a long look.

“Just that her roots looked a little sloppy,” I said with a small shrug. He rolled his lip in between his teeth to stop his appreciative smile and shook his head.

JJ growled and leaned back against the lockers, stretching his neck up towards the ceiling so his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Stupid fucking Camerons. Stupid, spineless Ross. Assholes, I’m sick of it.” I tucked my hand in his and leaned back with him, hoping the cool metal would distract me from the fact that our Sunday brunches were now over. Our conversations over folded napkins and spotless glasses at the table where we’d first realized we knew each other as well as the menus we read guests had just been stomped out. After a while, his heaving chest relaxed. He looked over at me and nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

I took one last look back on our way out of the dining room, only to be met with Rose’s dagger sharp eyes as she sipped her martini. I bid her goodbye with an acidic smile and tightened my grip on JJ’s hand. So there was a target on my back, and Rose Cameron’s manicured finger on the trigger. Nothing I couldn’t handle.


	9. Map to the Edge of a Cliff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianca and the pogues take a trip to the mainland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone!! If you’ve made it this far thanks so much honestly. This chapter is kinda wish fulfillment in the sense that I really want to go to one of those rage rooms where you can break a bunch of stuff because I sometimes like to think I’m 64 inches of whoop ass but I looked it up and they’re expensive so I probs won’t. Anyways I hope you guys like it. Ngl I’ve been feeling like there’s something missing from this story and idk what it is, but also I have something I’m writing towards that I hope you guys like (?) you’ll probs hate me for it in the moment. So yeah, please please give me your thoughts I really appreciate hearing them :)

After a few days, I’d decided it was safe enough for JJ to go back to the Chateau. Him staying at my house had been a welcome, sugar-dusted vacation, but we weren’t at that level yet. So, JJ returned to reside over the Chateau with his own clothes,and we changed the sheets on Big John’s bed and fluffed the pillows until he assured me spiders no longer crawled down his back when he sat down on it. The pogues and I had spent many nights around a bonfire and mornings in the marsh together in the week since JJ had been back. But there were moments in between the aimless conversations where Kie might miss one of the same three chords she’d been repeating and stop altogether or Pope might snatch a blunt too quickly out of JJ’s hands. And JJ? His intense gaze at certain times might’ve warmed my core if I hadn’t known the reasons behind it. The fire he’d stare at for too long would paint the planes of his face flickering shades of sunlight. Sunlight, not sunshine, because sunlight encompassed the exact tint of a solar flare. The color of eruption.

So it was through a collection of those moments with the pogues that I decided they needed a chance to release some of those anxieties. My mom had told me about a “rage room” on the mainland where her firm had taken them to break a variety of objects after a particularly stressful case. A rage room seemed exactly right. So I’d concocted a day out on the mainland with Kie and booked our room for tomorrow.

After my shift at the country club, I wound up at the Chateau with JJ over a tub of ice cream before I brough the subject up. The prospect of the country club without JJ I’d tried to imagine the day Rose had gotten him fired had quickly become an even grayer reality. I still loved my co-workers, but the laughter I’d normally let out during mundane tasks like folding the napkins and checking the stock with JJ had been quashed in his absence. On more than one occasion, one gruesome question had inched its way up my throat. _What if JJ and I couldn_ _’_ _t last past these gilded walls?_ Nights like these, soothed the itch, but it always found a way back at some point. Tonight, however, I buried it in a spoonful of cookies and cream as he wrinkled his nose at the prospect of junior year, which I’d introduced by telling him I’d been forced to read Great Expectations on my break without him to entertain me.

“I barely passed sophomore year, I don’t know why they bother anymore. They think we’re all just stupid pogues,” he said, dragging the tub back to his side of the table.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I said after swallowing. He gave me a look. I nodded.

“Ok, you’re right. I do think you’re stupid. But I think everyone’s stupid.”

He sent me another look. I grimaced.

“Ok you’re right again. I think you’re _especially_ stupid. What I’m _trying_ to say is that I also think you’re smart. Just in a different way. You can talk people into things. And, sure, I can do that, too, but when I do it, there’s no hiding that I’ve won something. You can talk people into something and make them believe they actually want to do it. Make them happy to do it. You look at people and know the inner workings of their heart, you know?”

I didn’t tell him that sometimes that part of him also scared me. I didn’t ask if he could see that my heart had been learning new words recently. Words whispered on alters and from beneath tangled bedsheets. Words in every hit radio song. Words that could otherwise be read as falling too fast.

He grinned. “Huh, you are right, babe. I’m a genius,” he nodded to himself, placing his hands behind his head. I slammed the chair he had leaned back in his self-congratulatory pose back to the floor.

“Still not smarter than me though,” I said with a smirk. He shot one right back at me, and I thought maybe actually sent some projectile at me with just his smile because something in me bloomed. The middle of my chest grew warm, way too warm, and soft and…sickeningly sweet. I blinked a few times to overcome it, but the bandana I’d originally teased him for and suddenly couldn’t seem to get enough of still pushed his hair brilliantly aside and up. Stupid, perfect JJ. I looked away at the map on the wall. It only showed me a way to the mainland. Nothing about stopping yourself from walking a path you knew ended in a cliff. I let out a breath and decided to bring up my idea. The date was set for tomorrow anyways.

“Have you ever heard of rage rooms?” I said. He snorted.

“Does this have something to do with therapists?” he asked, hand already fishing through his pockets for his lighter.

“No, it’s like, rooms with TVs and glasses, and they give you a bat or an ax and you just get to break it all. I was thinking we could go,” I responded. The wrinkle in his forehead smoothed into something a little more tolerable.

“Why don’t we just go the junkyard?” he asked. I frowned.

“Well, this place makes sure it’s safe, for one. And it won’t smell like…junk,” I offered. “And I don’t know. I thought we could make it a day. Get lunch somewhere on the mainland, and then go break some shit.” His face transformed from clean angular honeycomb to the honey that oozed from it. Sweet and droopy. 

“Bianca Morales, are you asking me on a date? Awww, you _do_ like me,” he teased and poked at my cheeks. I craned my neck out of his way too late.

“A double date really. I thought Pope and Kie could join us,” I corrected. “Tomorrow.”

He nodded his agreement. “Okay, as long as I get to see you go apeshit on a TV.”

“Oh, you know I’ll destroy it.” I smiled and then leaned a little off my chair to see what kind of shorts he wore underneath the table. I didn’t really have to check to get my answer, but I wanted him to see my reaction. “And please, wear jeans tomorrow. Don’t want you getting hurt or my reputation outside of this place to involve the company of guys in cargo shorts.”

“They’re – ”

“If you say they’re useful, I’m taking the rest of this ice cream. There is no excuse.” I raised my spoon in warning. He released a disgruntled huff, but settled on another bite.

“Whatever, you know I still look good in them,” he said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Do you think spiders can smell?” Kie asked, eying a daddy long leg making its way down the railing in front of us. The ferry would take us to the mainland port within walking distance of a sandwich place Kiara and I’d found before it was time for us to smash things.

JJ took a large whiff of ocean air before shaking his head. “Nah.” 

I met Pope’s eyes. “Did he just…” 

“Sniff the air and then answer no as if he was a spider? Yeah, yeah he did,” Pope nodded in dismay.

“Cool, just want to make sure I’ve got eyewitnesses on that,” I said as JJ snorted.

“Well, they have eight eyes so it’s probably making up for something!” he snapped in defense, startling the toddler beside us. I stifled a giggle.

“Right, and what else are your spidey senses telling you?” I asked in mock seriousness.

“Oh, fu – “ JJ’s eyes darted towards the toddler now hanging onto his every word for a split second before continuing, “screw you guys. Very hard.”

“Do you think you can get a secondary source for that comment on behalf of the arachnids?” Pope pressed. “I’m sure Daddy Long Legs over there would be interested in co-authoring a statement.”

“I believe it. I don’t think they can smell, at least not well,” Kie decided.

“See? Thank you, Kie,” JJ burst out, running his hand through his hair as if to remind himself he was still cool.

“Oh no. You’re still an idiot,” she said primly. Much to JJ’s annoyance, the joke did not die on the ferry. Any chance Pope and I saw to make some spider connection over our food we took, until we’d completely killed the joke but couldn’t stop ourselves from laughing around its carcass.

By the time we made it to the rage rooms, a smile had etched itself into my cheeks and a disgruntled frown on JJ’s. It didn’t matter, though, because I had Pope and Kie on my side, and I could earn JJ’s forgiveness with a few, drawn out kisses later. I nudged his side so he’d congratulate me on my victory, and he was kind enough to offer me a half-smile that said he knew and was happy for me.

Once we’d been geared up in the appropriate gloves, goggles, coveralls, and blunt objects, the man at the front desk escorted us to our room. A few TVs, a ridiculous amount of glassware, two tires, and a slew of printers greeted us in an industrial room with high ceilings.

“You guys have half an hour, let us know if you need anything,” he informed us before leaving the door closed behind him. We turned slowly to each other.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Pope asked JJ as he plucked a glass cup from the table. JJ grinned and held up his sledgehammer like a bat. Kie pulled me out of the way and cackled at the perfect crunch of rubber against glass when his hammer connected. I picked up my own steel bat and slammed it down on the printer in front of me. The brittle snap of the plastic sent electricity through my veins, emboldening my next act of destruction.

We descended into giddy chaos.

I was immortal. Made from something other than skin and bones. Stronger than glass and steel and all inventions of man. Nothing could touch me here. No one would doubt the pogues all thought the same thing as they shared bursts of laughter and stomped across ruins. I shared a scream of joyful, Amazonian rage with Kie as we went in on an unsuspecting 90’s style television together. A few shards of glass bounced harmlessly off of our bodies. Behind us, the sounds of Pope and JJ’s destruction heralded their reign.

I could see the appeal of destruction. JJ’d never had anything or anyone to hold him back from expending this power, this rage. People were all too willing to believe he’d been the cause of some ruination. It was why he’d landed in that stale jail cell so quickly. I hoped this specific realm of broken glass and grieving screams showed him neither of these things had to end in spilled blood or bruises. He didn’t always have to hurt in order to feel. 

A glass pitcher that should’ve been filled with lemonade for a perfect suburban family of four on a hot summer day trembled beneath my glare. I could practically see Rose Cameron’s dainty hands around it while she talked about how she’d cheated JJ out of a job and some messy lie about what my mom was doing in London as payback for my comment about Ward and Rafe to her friends. _Fuck that. Fuck it all._ My family had always been whole. Just me and my mom. And fuck anytime she thought it wasn’t enough and anyone that fueled that thought.

The world, and admittedly myself, had given me too many reasons to create a barrier between my greatest sentiments and others. Some poisonous, suffocating filter that I had never been able to overcome due to pride or fear or some subconscious defense mechanism. I’d been drowning in it for too long. I was angry. Bitter. Raging. And no, my anger was not an inherently destructive force. It made me productive too, made me rise to action, and maybe that was why society had deemed it dangerous. But I would’ve been lying if I said this didn’t feel right. That somehow my hands were always meant to shatter worlds between them. So I crushed a stray wine glass beneath my shoes and whirled around to laugh with JJ when his chuckle reached my ears.

He looked at me, twin rivers streaming down his cheeks, each scrunched up in a smile. My spine locked. His knees buckled, and the sledgehammer he’d wielded with glee not thirty seconds earlier clanged against the ground, sending mortified reverberations through my body. _Had I made a mistake with this? Were the noises we_ _’_ _d let out too similar to things he_ _’_ _d heard in his own home?_ Pope’s arms already clung to him, and Kie wasted no time in burying her head of curls into the cocoon they’d created around JJ in a matter of seconds. I stepped closer but froze. This moment didn’t belong to me.

At least I thought it didn’t. Kie’s hand on my wrist wrenched me to my knees, and then we devolved into a mess of limbs and shaking chests. I shook my head to see past the strands of hair that blocked my view of JJ.

“Is this, are you – ”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, answering my question before I could get it out. His blue eyes now shone tinged with red, but he mouthed the words thank you, so I fought to find his hand and squeezed as hard as I could through the gloves. I couldn’t tell if the tears he shed indicated sorrow or joy or fury, and I wasn’t sure he even knew. I wasn’t sure it mattered either, as long as the arms around each of us came tight and loving. As long as JJ knew we were here, too.

By the time the workers came in to let us know our time had elapsed, our eyes no longer resembled pools and only retained a little puffiness. JJ didn’t let go of my hand the entire walk back to the ferry. While a part of me reveled in the fact that Pope had chosen to sit next to me as soon as I sat instead of waiting until everyone had sat to make a decision like the first time, I couldn’t stop myself from sitting back up and making my way to the rail. Of course, I only did so after enough time had passed so that he wouldn’t think I got up because he’d sat next to me. I’d never been able to sit on a boat and not admire the ocean. Even if the boat reeked of sweaty tourists and oil.

The waves below us sparkled a glistening navy. I tilted my chin back just the slightest bit. Enough to sigh as the cool ocean mist placed gentle kisses on my cheeks and whispered secrets in my ears without looking overtly dramatic.

“You look like you should be in a movie,” Kiara said as she settled next to me, ignoring the disgruntled look the tourist to her left gave her. I let out a soft snort.

“Well, I do live for drama,” I told her and frowned at the rays of sunshine now extending past her head and no longer warming my skin. “But you’re stealing my spotlight.” She laughed, like she always did every time I’d dared to show her some of my sass, so maybe I could ignore that she’d cut my melodrama short.

“You know I always thought you were uptight? You only ever hang out with Lily, Ellie, and Quinn, and sometimes it’s hard to tell if you even like them. And the looks you give Topper when he just repeats your answer in class, those have only ever said ‘I’m better than you and I know it’,” she said. I looked back out at the water, pushing away any witty comeback I might come up with because I knew she was trying to get to know me better and I wanted to talk to her, too, so I wouldn’t deflect.

“I mean, I like them. They’re nice, but…” I trailed off trying not to say the words I wanted to in case they made me sound too mean.

“But nice is the only way you can describe them?” Kie finished for me. I met her eyes and nodded.

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re really nice people for the most part, and I want them to have happy lives. But I just can’t bring myself to care about the things they talk about sometimes. They don’t know me, and we’ve been best friends since we were 12.”

“Some kooks aren’t that bad,” she admitted and shot me a look that said if I ever quoted her she’d kill me, “but they just can’t see beyond Figure 8 unless it has to do with some vacation through Europe. They’ve never had to, and honestly, I don’t think they want to. But at least, when we go back, you’ll have me. And we can judge them together.”

“Wow, a ticket to the big leagues from Kiara Carrera herself,” I marveled. Kie had had a rough freshman year. Even I knew that, and I barely talked to anyone at Kildare Academy. But she’d fought hard to get herself an individualistic reputation after. People didn’t always like her, but they certainly respected that she’d come back from that. So, a seat at Kie’s table really did seem like a golden ticket. A way out of listening to which white boy of the month had said something funny or stupid in History and pretending to care about every Bath and Body Works candle sale that didn’t end in me sitting alone on my phone. “I’d like that.” 

“Me too,” she said. “Thank you. For doing this for us. It was fun.” I swallowed.

“Yeah, no problem.” I nodded. “I think we all needed it.”

Even though she stood about a hand taller than me, she managed to pop her hips back and lean against the railing so that she could comfortably rest her head against my bare shoulder. Bubbles popped against my chest as I allowed myself a small, congratulatory smile. I’d leveled up.

“She’ll never love me again,” I said the next day in my backyard. JJ rolled his eyes as he scratched Lola’s wiggling body up and down to congratulate her after she’d caught the ball he’d thrown.

“Whatever, you’ve got your goblin cat. Pretty sure he feels something like love for you. Or not hate,” he said, standing up so he could throw the ball again for her.

“His name is Bucky,” I corrected and looked back at the house to find him watching us from behind the sliding glass window. “And he’s got his eye on you, Maybank.” JJ looked up and followed my gaze. He shuddered when he realized Bucky stood watch, tail flicking ominously behind him. “I’m going to rinse off, but after do you want to get Italian for dinner?”

“Rinse off?”

“Yes, we just spent the day in the pool. Gotta rinse the chlorine off? You can use my mom’s bathroom,” I said. He laughed and puffed his chest.

“Okay, kook. If it cleans the pool, it cleans you. No need,” he explained with an unbothered shrug. “Don’t give me that look, it’s science! I’ve done it all my life.”

“I have no idea how you’ve survived this long.” I wrinkled my nose and walked back to the house.

“You look good, baby!” he called out after me. I sent him a crude gesture without looking back, but smiled to myself. The red high-waisted bikini hadn’t let me down. Literally.

After the shower, I changed into a navy blue sundress and tousled my hair to the side. It wouldn’t dry for a while, so I’d just have to go with the wet-hair look and hope it resembled the version models sported rather than the kind that…well, the kind that I usually sported. Whatever. JJ had seen me after a 10 hour, holiday shift at the club. This was nothing new.

My lungs froze the second I heard a voice that did not belong in this house right now.

_“_ _What did you do to my daughter?_ _”_ Shit.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Morales!” JJ’s chirpy voice carried up the stairs. “Oh. Hi, Mrs. Morales. Bianca?” His voice dropped an octave, and I could only imagine the look on my mom’s face. I wrenched my door open and took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping over myself. “ _Bianca!_ ” His voice grew more urgent.

“Mom! Mom, I’m fine! I’m right here,” I called out, rounding the corner to find JJ backing frantically up on the marble counters as my mom cornered him with a kitchen knife and a feral scowl. “ _Mom!_ Put the – put the knife _down_!” She whirled on me, and I swore the knife glinted as if in a cartoon. When she processed that I was standing before her, freshly showered and not in a ditch somewhere, her chest stopped heaving and her face softened.

“A knife? Seriously?” I shook my head, looking to JJ to make sure he was okay. He nodded at me with a hand over his heart and placed his feet back on solid ground. She set it down on the counter before wrapping me in a hug.

“You scared me, mija,” she exclaimed. I wrapped my arms around her slender frame and squeezed, burying my face in her pin straight hair dyed caramel brown. Her signature citrusy perfume washed over me, and for a moment I forgot to prepare for whatever anger she might harbor. She pulled back and set her keys down, looking between JJ and I.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back till Tuesday?” I asked.

“I finished up early and thought I’d surprise you,” she responded. I nodded then turned to JJ. He had neglected a shirt in favor of his chlorine-doused abs. Not even shoes. I sighed

“Mom, this is my friend, JJ. JJ, this is my mom,” I introduced them, praying he wouldn’t give her his signature smirk.

“Hi, Mrs. Morales. Sorry I scared you, but it’s really nice to meet you. Bianca talks about you a lot,” he said instead, extending his hand out. His voice came honey smooth with all the foundations of his usual charm but far more earnest than usual. My mom smiled and took his hand.

“Hi, JJ. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry if I was a little aggressive,” she said with a slight laugh and rubbed her palm against her linen pants.

“Oh, no. It’s all good. Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugged. “I think I’m going to get my shirt and be out of your hair. It was really nice meeting you.” He gave my mom a comically wide berth with both hands up and winked at me on his way out of the kitchen. She turned to me and jut her hip out.

“What’s he doing in my house?” she raised a groomed eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t pretend you’re not excited. You said I could invite friends over, and you know about JJ. He works with me,” I said and gave her another, longer hug now that JJ wasn’t here. She rubbed my back and squeezed me tighter.

“Yes, and yet you never talk to me about him. He’s very pretty, baby,” she told me in Spanish, moving my hair aside from my ears so I could hear her clearly.

“Mom, please!” I scolded her and pulled back. She flashed her perfect teeth at me in a sly smile. My mom was my opposite in nearly every way. I looked far more like my dad than I did her, with her lightly tanned skin and willowy figure. She walked into a room full of people and arrested their attention with her brilliant smile and ability to make everyone feel cared for. And she’d always taken an interest in the boys I’d hung out with. Or rather, taken an interest in me taking an interest. But I rarely divulged such information. Today would not break my streak.

I pushed her away. “He’s my friend. We just wanted to swim in the pool instead of the beach.”

“Mhmm, okay, mija. So you’ve been going to the beach too?” she smiled. “Well, good thing I got pizza so he can stay for dinner. Can you get it for me? I left it in the trunk so I could hug you when I got in.”

My fingers curled at the idea of her prodding JJ for his story, but I decided it was best to cut my time away from supervising her down by getting it quickly. When I came back with the pizza, they were setting the table together like they’d been childhood friends. Somehow, this was worse than my mom’s prying.

“Thank you, honey,” my mom said, taking the pizza and sitting down. Rather than me being in between them, my mom settled herself down at the head of the table and sat me across from JJ. I gave him a look that asked him if he was fine as I grabbed a slice, and he gave me an easy grin before biting into his own.

“So, you’re the one that taught her to put hot sauce on everything?” JJ asked as my mom poured a few drops of Valentina on her slice before handing it off to me.

“Please, JJ,” my mom said conspiratorially. “Anything she’s done, I did first.”

Whatever, I shook my head. They could gab while I ate my pizza. I’d been looking forward to wine and pasta with JJ, but at least, my mom had come back. A shrill ring jerked me out of my thoughts, but JJ declined it. It came again, and once again, he declined. The third time, goosebumps prickled at my skin. We locked eyes as he murmured that he needed to take it and stood up. My mom’s curious gaze seared my skin but I ignored it, instead lasering in on every one of JJ’s facial muscles. He blinked a few times. His upper lip twitched for a second before drooping, and he turned to me.

“They’re alive.”


	10. There are Mirrors in Your Eyes, and I Hate the Way I Look in Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pogues and Bianca are reunited with John B and Sarah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I know John B's house is like straight into the water and there isn't a beach, but I also don't care and made it a beach for the Moment I wanted to write. Thanks to everyone reading and leaving comments! I would love to hear your thoughts or anything you guys have noticed or things you are predicting! Things are going to get a little angsty from here on out but there will be a hopefully sweet ending :)
> 
> Also this is posted under the same name on Tumblr along with my other works first

John B and Sarah Cameron were alive.

The tears in JJ’s eyes didn’t make them look glassy. Instead, he’d fashioned them into mirrors. All he would show me were my own features reflected too calm, too detached. My eyebrows furrowed in the image he showed me finally. My teeth clenched together.

He thought I would see the mirrors in his eyes shutting me out and try to break them to find him beneath the shards. Broken pieces had always felt more natural to JJ, I knew that. But I didn’t need to crash through JJ’s walls. If he wanted to show me snapshots of myself, I could take a string as red as the blood in his veins and weave it around them until they all told me a story, our story.

He was not my core, but rather twisted around every sharp knuckle and every curve of myself. So when I stepped back, I could follow the string and find his narrative superimposed against mine.

So I did.

He’d see John B in five hours, the length of a flight from Nassau to North Carolina. The gold would be back on the island, because if they’d found John B and Sarah, then they’d found the gold too. And maybe that was a relief, but JJ wasn’t one to think about ways to save himself. That one was all me. So I moved on.

John B had spent the entire year searching for his dad. Had almost killed himself and Sarah in the process, but never once had he doubted his father or his friends. JJ had spiraled in John B’s absence. Had snuffed hope out with smoke and blood. So, he hadn’t bothered with the same fervor as John B had.

_Oh._

“JJ,” I said firmly. “He’s alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Exactly. He’s alive, and I didn’t do jack shit to find him, B.” The nickname barely held any of its normal sweetness, but I blamed it on the guilt that coated another inch of his body with each passing second, starting with his tongue.

“JJ, how did the SBI even know to look in the Bahamas?”

“Because we told them to find the money. Not them. The fucking gold,” he said, knuckles tightening on my Jeep’s door handle.

“JJ, look at me.” He turned to me. The string lights from the Chateau reflected off of his tears. “ _Look_ at me.” He blinked, and I saw JJ. Unwilling to accept that things might be turning out the right way for him without faulting himself. Unwilling to accept that he’d ever done enough for the people he loved.

“You did nothing wrong. None of it was your fault. And I know that’s hard to internalize, but…” I trailed off. “Fuck, I don’t know how to get you to believe me. But please, believe me.” His fingers tangled themselves in my hair at the distress in my voice. JJ leaned over and placed a small kiss to my forehead, before he wrapped his hands around mine. The motion set off the web of strings around my body until finally it squeezed too tight on the one wrapped around my heart. He didn’t say anything, so we just sat there outside the Chateau as the sun gave us its final goodbye.

Pope and Kie met us finally in the living room. JJ explained the call to them robotically, and we all sat on the couches. Well, Kie, JJ, and I sat on the couch. Pope paced in front of us, repeating what we knew and what we didn’t know about John B and Sarah and about the gold and the SBI. That shaved off one hour of the five hour flight.

He settled down finally next to JJ. No one touched the weed on the table or the can of beers by the door. The night breeze and the tide provided the only source of noise for a long moment or maybe a half hour. JJ’s leg didn’t bounce once.

 _I’m worried._ Pope said silently.

 _I’m worried._ Kie’s face told me.

 _I’m worried._ I responded without a word.

JJ maintained his silence as I pulled him up and through the back door, down to the beach. It would be better for Pope and Kie to have some time alone, too. He plopped himself down in the sand, and I stepped in between his legs before carefully settling myself down in his lap so my dress still covered most of me. My hands soothed his neck, and I carefully pressed my lips to his cheek. I pulled back to look at him more clearly. His skin shone seashell white in the moonlight, perfectly intact. Not a scratch marred the beauty of his lips or a popped blood vessel the blue of his eyes. But I could see the cracks forming beneath it all, more clearly than with any other beating I’d seen the aftermath of.

“Is this okay?” I whispered. He nodded. “Yes?” I persisted.

“Yes,” he said and kept his gaze on the water behind us. I kissed the canyon forming on his other cheek.

“They’re okay,” I murmured, settling on an open mouthed kiss on the edge of his jaw. “You did everything you were supposed to.” Now, his forehead. His neck. My movements were more careful than the sea rolling against the sand behind me, but even the waves lent JJ their strength that night with their gentle, soothing swell. They echoed every one of my words as I whispered over and over that they were alive.

The slight tremor I first registered in my fingertips resting on the back of his neck burrowed into my chest. I tightened my grip, pulling his face to the crook of my shoulder so he could still watch the water, so that I would feel every shudder, too. If he was going to face this, I could do it with him.

The less that stood between JJ and their return the more I saw him come back to life. His jaw feathered every time he looked in a different direction. Surprisingly, his lighter hadn’t run out of fluid yet. It flickered to life every single time he snapped it open. And he’d opened and closed it for the past three and a half hours. I trained my eyes on its wavering flame the entire car ride over.

At least, we didn’t have to wonder what they’d been forced to do to survive on the water. John B had said over the phone they’d been picked up by a cargo ship the morning after the storm. He’d assured JJ everything was fine. Better than fine. They had the gold, too, and the SBI were working on deciding ownership, but Sarah was hopeful. Still, some unnamed emotion, or perhaps an unrecognizable mix of many, sizzled in the air. Quiet enough that if someone were to turn on the radio the scene could be written off as four teenagers cruising through a summer night but not weak enough that anyone dared to turn it on. I supposed there wasn’t anything out there on what to do when the dead come home.

When we pulled into the police station, my phone buzzed with a text from my mom saying she was there with the other parents. I didn’t know how long their reunion would take, but I wanted to give them time alone. Plus, I had left my car at the Chateau, so I’d texted her asking for a ride after. A gentle breeze rustled the palms, and I laced my fingers through JJ’s as we stopped in front of the door. Pope and I shared a look before I opened it and let them all through.

“ _Fuck_.” JJ’s shaky voice came from inside the station before I even had the chance to walk in. The golden rod lighting inside only highlighted John B and Sarah Cameron’s sunburnt skin. A pale gold might have muted them slightly, but none of it mattered as a broken sob cut through the room. The pogues congregated into a pile of sunburnt arms and incoherent words of love. I tried to step away, but JJ’s arm pulled me in by the waist and his lips found my ears to offer me a whispered thank you. My own lips wobbled, but I bit down on them.

“We made it,” John B’s voice rose over Pope’s cries. “We made it.” Finally, their arms unlocked, and I pulled away. John B’s eyes lingered on mine, and his smile widened.

“You’re Bianca,” he said immediately. It was no use biting down on my grin this time. I nodded.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m Bianca. You’re John B,” I responded feeling too giddy that JJ’d talked about me so much John B recognized me for the reality of the situation. He shrugged his shoulders warmly. “And you’re Sarah. Hi. I’m, I’m really glad you guys are safe.” Despite her chapped lips, the blonde kook managed to give me a warm hello. Kie had wrapped her arm around Sarah’s and John B’s, and she didn’t look ready to let go any time soon.

John B didn’t let her as he took a step back and surveyed the adults in the room happily. It faltered when his eyes landed on the woman by Agent Bratcher’s side, who hadn’t introduced herself to us.

“No.” he said, taking a step back. “No. Back off, man. _Come on_. I just got back. Can’t you give me like a head start?”

The woman’s face softened, but her resolve did not. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Kiara asked with a frown, already shifting her weight in front of John B.

“Sheryl here, is my CPS officer,” John B spat. His eyes flicked towards the exit. A burly officer had planted himself a few paces in front of it. He could’ve at least been a little more subtle and stood to the side. Or maybe he’d done this before. From John B’s sneer when they met eyes, I realized it was the latter.

The air crackled now. JJ’s fingers curled into a fist before I could put my hands in his.

“No. No. No,” he protested. “No. You can’t do this. You can’t take him away again.” His voice grew progressively louder until it took up all the space in the already crowded lobby. He looked between John B and the officer.

“John B, run!” he ordered as he rammed his shoulder into the officer’s chest. They both hit the flimsy walls of the police station with a thud that sounded like it hurt JJ more than it did the cop. John B bolted for the door, but Agent Bratcher gained on him and tugged him back by the shoulders. Both boys struggled now in the arms of men much larger than them.

“Let go of him!” I cried out. “Let _go_!” JJ’s hands clawed at the beefy arm holding him in a headlock.

“Let go of the kids, now.” Mr. Carrera’s voice left no room for argument despite the fact that his gray t-shirt was devoid of any shining badge. “You’ve made your point.”

His hand squeezed JJ’s shoulder when he was finally released and near us again, both a comfort and a warning.

“Now, look. I would like to file to be John b’s legal guardian,” Mr. Carrera said after Kie nodded at him her encouragement. “If he will have us.”

“I – ” John B began mouth agape. He closed it and cleared his throat, eyes glassy. “Yeah. Uh, yeah. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Carrera. I would really like that.”

“And, trust me when I say, I would like for nothing more than for John B to go somewhere he knows. So please contact me to file for that in the morning. But right now, John B has to come with me. I can’t get guardianship approved legally at 11:30 pm,” Sheryl said somberly, handing Mr. Carrera a pristine card as if it was all some business transaction instead of a life they were trading. “I can give you a few more minutes, but we do have to go before it gets too much later.”

“He just got back from being on the run for murder,” Pope interrupted. “You can’t just put him a home for the night!” Mr. Heyward put his hand on his son’s chest, but it was more of a lifeline than a restraint.

“You’re sure there’s nothing that can be done tonight?” Mr. Heyward asked Sheryl. She met his eyes and shook her head.

“No. I’m sorry. But the office doesn’t open until 9:00 am tomorrow. Then, we can get this sorted out. Tonight, he has to come with me.”

“Then we’ll go tomorrow. We’ll be there to pick you up, John B,” Mrs. Carrera offered sincerely. The pogues all looked at each other, but they knew there was no avoiding this reality.

The clack of heels on the concrete steps outside cut through the heavy silence. The door opened, and Rose Cameron walked in. Even at almost midnight, an expensive bodycon dress hugged her figure, and her lips shone scarlet.

“I’m not going home with you,” Sarah said in a stony voice before the door had even closed behind her.

Rose rolled her eyes, unbothered or simply that unaware of the powder keg she’d just walked into. “Oh, tell it to the SBI, honey. They called me to come get you, so come on, your father’s waiting.”

My eyes went from Rose to Shoupe’s long face to Agent Bratcher’s placid one. The stone in Sarah’s voice crept up my spine, cementing every one of my muscles. They wanted Sarah to go home to a house of murderers. And Shoupe had known it. Had known since before we’d even walked in.

“You can’t be serious,” Kie spat. “You _can’t_ be serious.”

“Hello, it’s almost 12 am, Sarah. Can you just get in the car?” Rose asked, frowning at the golden watch on her wrist.

“No. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. Or you. Go home,” Sarah snapped as John B wrapped his arm around her waist, but her voice wavered a bit.

“Really, Shoupe?” JJ cut in, lips dripping with acid. “You want to ship John B off to some home, and you want to send her home to two murderers.” He kept shaking his head like there was a hive of wasps in his skull that he wanted to rile up and set upon every suited up adult in here.

“They’re each in the SBI’s custody right now. Legally, we can only hand them over to their guardians. The world is watching this story, kids. I’m sorry. But it’s the law.” Shoupe said with his hands on his hips. I looked to my mom, but all she did was nod. It struck the final chord before everything devolved into sheer madness.

Rose wrapped sharp nails around Sarah’s arm. The giant cop placed a meaty hand on John B’s back with Sheryl behind him. I couldn’t tell who’s mouths the cacophony of no’s came from. Mr. Carrera held Kie back as she lunged for her friends. Pope barely made it one step before his dad wrapped his arms around him, repeating something over and over in his ear.

JJ’s eyes flitted to my mom’s pristine figure for a split second. I knew exactly what it meant because it was exactly what I thought. He’d only just met her, what would she think if she saw him erupt twice in one night? And I hated that I thought it too (maybe first), but it didn’t matter because he sprang before the second had taken its last breath.

JJ made it the farthest.

He would always make it the farthest. He’d sprint the greatest distance. Carry the heaviest weight. Take the most bullets to the heart if it meant his friends didn’t have to. If it meant his screams would be the only ones to pierce the night.

Shoupe caught him just as the darkness outside finished swallowing Sarah and John B. It had so quickly fallen apart. And just as quickly, we stood upon ruins with jagged edges and dangerous caverns. I swallowed past the dust coating my throat, and blinked a few times. JJ met my eyes.

For the second time that night he tried to show me bits of myself. What he thought I would want to see. But the mirror had ultimately shattered, so his eyes were really a myriad of broken glass and the mouth of a well that ran too deep with water this island had been polluting for years. I couldn’t tell if it was on the verge of overflowing or if it would simply tunnel deeper into the earth because there was no amount of poison JJ hadn’t swallowed.

“I think it’s best if you come stay with us tonight, kid,” Mr. Heyward told JJ. Pope nudged his arm, and he nodded absently. Kie pulled me in for a watery hug before she left with her parents, promising they would get John B in the morning. Pope squeezed my hand once and met his parents by the door. JJ’s arms were brittle, but I held him together with as much strength as I could manage, nuzzling my nose into his neck where ocean mist had dried into a salty film.

“Text me,” I whispered before letting go. He placed the tiniest kiss on my hair.

As he turned his back to me with Mr. Heyward’s arm around his shoulder, the flame in the lighter at his side finally spluttered out.

I tracked the moon through the window on the car ride back.

“Does he do that often?” she interrupted my trance. I didn’t answer her directly.

“His best friend just came back to life, mom, and was ripped away again,” I snapped. She didn’t respond. Underneath my annoyance at the question, a tiny sting lingered because…because I didn’t want to imagine that maybe she’d said words like that to herself years ago. But this was a million times different. JJ was a million times different, and she had to have the depth to understand that. I shook it off. She could tell me she disapproved of him. It was my life, not hers.

She could move us to the moon, and I would gladly hop from star to star back down to cover him in stardust and my love. It would be dumb to think he and I would continue forever. I wouldn’t let myself hope for that, and I wasn’t sure forever would be right. But, right then, while I had him, he and I were inseparable.

Even when he didn’t text me back.


	11. A Target Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pogues and Bianca enact a plan to get Sarah out of the Cameron estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok please tell me you guys picked up on the fact that I was foreshadowing what a certain someone does in this chapter to another certain someone. or once you read it you realized that I was. Anyways I am sorry for the events of this chapter. I did warn we would be getting some turmoil... As always I would love to hear your thoughts. Seriously your comments mean a lot!!

I had to wrangle the state of affairs out of JJ the next morning, but eventually, he’d shared that we would be meeting at the Wreck to discuss the events of last night. So I’d driven myself over, and gratefully accepted the smoothie and egg sandwich Kie offered me.

“How is she doing?” Pope asked John B who hadn’t touched his own burger. The Carreras had been true to their word and finalized the papers to become his guardians that morning, but Sarah was still stuck in the belly of the shark alone.

“She’s as good as she can be in the home of murderers,” John B said with a hint of cyanide lacing his tone. It was hard to tell if it was directed at Ward and Rafe or Pope. “Ward’s been surprisingly…accepting of the charges. Rafe hasn’t. But it doesn’t matter. We’re breaking her out. Today.” The other pogues nodded in agreement.

“Ok, where are we going to take her?” Pope asked, meeting my eyes across the table in question.

“I don’t know, we have to get her out,” John B said. “We’ll…we’ll hide her.”

“Does this count as attempted kidnapping?” I asked, tempering my voice so as not to upset his friends. I knew the answer anyways. JJ squeezed my hand under the table.

“Not if we succeed,” he said, and John B nodded.

“You’re so right, JJ. If we succeed, it’s just _kidnapping_ ,” Pope spat, taking his cap off to run his hand through his hair. “ _Shit_.”

Shit was right. We had to get Sarah out of there, but that was only the half of it. I worked my jaw, ignoring the mini argument that had erupted between them as they discussed how they would break her out. How to get her out and not land ourselves in yet another showdown with Shoupe?

I straightened in my chair.

“We take her to the police station,” I cut through their voices.

“They’ll only send her back,” John B said in exasperation. He shook his head and crossed his arms. “No.”

“No,” I said right back. “We take her to the police station and have her give her statement. That way they can’t send her back because she’ll be a key witness and forcing a key witness into the same house as the defendant would damage the sanctity of the case. They won’t send her back,” I explained, scooting my chair in. “I’ll ask my mom to meet us at the station.”

“Bianca, you’re a genius,” Kie said and slid her leftover fries to my side of the table. I took a few and relished in the salty victory. We could get her out and avoid a night behind bars. 

“Ok, so we know what we’re doing once we get her out. There’s only one problem,” John B offered, avoiding the others’ gazes now. He set his hands on the table in a miniature tent and shook his shoulders out.

“Of course, of course,” Pope said before he could continue.

“There’s a security guard now,” John B began and added on after a pause with a grimace. “And a dog.”

“That’s _two_ problems, John B,” Pope corrected him flatly. “Guard,” he lifted a finger. “Dog.” Another finger.

“So, two problems. But the good news is that he’s bound to the estate. Sooo, as soon as we make it past the gate, we’re safe,” John B said and smoothed his sloppily buttoned shirt out.

“How do you know?” JJ intervened with a raised eyebrow.

“Wheezie.” Kie and John B harmonized.

“That kid knows everything, I believe it.” Kie shook her head.

“Ok, so how do we get around the security guard and the dog?” I asked then and Pope nodded his agreement.

It took a half hour before we could hammer out the details and all agree on them. JJ had suggested dressing up as a mailman. At that point, I couldn’t quite tell if he was trying to lighten the mood or not, but we settled on a trip to the pet store. Finally, we’d managed to arm ourselves with a dog whistle and one of the local kids. She would feign a severe bike crash at the front gate to distract the security guard while we took care of the dog.

At first, I’d been a little wary of asking a child to come inside our van, but the girl, Laila, had been mouthy and apparently knew the pogues well. She currently sat on the side seats of the Twinkie (because everything the Pogues used had a name) glaring daggers at JJ. He’d cut her in line for the ice cream truck earlier in the summer and taken the last strawberry shortcake popsicle. Fair enough.

We pulled up behind the ivy-littered wall of the Ward Estate. My mom’s confirmation text that she would meet us at the police station in twenty minutes blinked at me from my phone. Twenty minutes to commit a minor felony. I met JJ’s eyes. He gave me an encouraging smile, always blasé.

“Ok, kid. We need serious screaming. If you want to scuff up your leg, I’m not going to complain,” JJ widened his legs and rested his elbows on his knees so he could look her in the eye.

“ _JJ_!” Kiara scolded, and he raised his hands in defense.

“Ok, ok. Fine. Do what you feel is best,” he amended with a conspiratorial wink. I might’ve thought it was a little cute if we weren’t about to break into a house with two known murderers. I supposed I wouldn’t be the one breaking in. I’d been designated the getaway driver, but that just meant I had to sit in silence, thinking through all the possible ways things might be falling apart behind the stone wall.

“Just distract him, ok?” Kie reassured the girl.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got this,” Laila nodded, dusting one of her braids off of her shoulder.

I switched seats with John B and curled my fingers around the steering wheel. John B and Kie would get Sarah out of her room and back to the car. JJ and Pope would take care of the dog. Laila would distract the guard with her bike injury, and I’d be waiting to drive us all away. Everything would go according to plan, I told myself.

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?” Pope asked her.

“I got everything I needed,” Laila said, patting the twenty in her pocket with a smug smile. She hopped down from the van and boarded her violet bike before giving us the most sarcastic salute I hadn’t even considered possible. “See ya later, bozos!” And so, Sarah’s first knight in shining armor led the charge. 

“Ok, we need to go. Ready?” John B surveyed us all, every bit the captain of a ship once she’d turned the corner to the front.

“Be careful. I’ll be here,” I said, and then, they scattered. John B and Kie flattened themselves against the wall in order to remain undetected while Laila did her job, and JJ and Pope sprinted towards the back of the house with the whistle.

Barely a minute had passed after they eventually hopped over the fence, before I began to regret our decision to take the Twinkie. If Rose or Ward decided to enjoy an afternoon drink on the balcony, or even spared one look to survey the receding summer skyline, we’d be caught. I probably should’ve breathed deeply and made some attempt at stopping my leg from pounding a hole through the already weakened van floor. Instead I let it hammer away and peeled at the foam on the steering wheel, straining my ears for any disruption along the wind.

The dog must’ve been well trained. It hadn’t barked once. Or maybe the dog whistle had been faulty. I huffed. They were fine, and this would work. We just had to get Sarah to the police station. Then we’d have it all. A solid case for both the money and the murders. We could spend the rest of the summer drinking in the sunshine. JJ might finally teach me how to surf like he’d been begging to teach me, and we could –

I bit my cheek to jolt myself out of it. This wasn’t the time for fantasies.

The street remained empty. Until a streak of purple and glittery streamers dashed across the rearview mirror. Iadjusted the seat one last time to ensure it was a close enough distance for my shorter legs.

 _Come on, come on, come on._ Laila had left. Where was everyone else?

But then JJ and Pope rounded the corner, all wind-milling limbs, and Kie hopped over the wall. John B followed and raised his arms, and Sarah Cameron jumped into them, not a hair out of place. John B had barely made it back into the Twinkie before I slammed on the gas and drove straight ahead with my heart in my mouth. A few moments of silence provided the idiosyncratic soundtrack to our escape before Sarah interrupted the track with a bubbly laugh.

“I love you guys,” she said, and finally, the Twinkie shook with our delirious laughter and whooping. I’d made it around two corners before I recognized a faint hum. In seconds it grew louder, until I recognized it as the roar of a motorcycle. 

I cursed aloud.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Sarah groaned. Rafe Cameron and his shining bike were barely a speck in the bare stretch of road behind us, but I, and everyone else, knew it was him nonetheless. The absence of his helmet placed his glare on full display for us, the depth of which could be recognized even this far ahead of him.

I scanned the street ahead of me for an out, before making a sharp turn and another and another, increasing our speed with each one.

“Uh, B? You good?” JJ’s voice came from the back. I was good. Or, I would be, once Rafe Cameron could be crossed off the list of people who could feasibly ruin my day. And I had every intention of crossing him off today in bold red. 

“Just hang on, and follow me when I say so.” I snapped, pulling into a small street and parking the car.

“Bianca, we need to drive faster than him!” Kie said.

“We can’t outrun him in this. We need to get out and hide until he leaves,” I explained. “Now, come on. There’s a house being built here I’ll get us into.” I shoved the keys into my pocket and scrambled out, tugging JJ along with me. We sprinted through the open rose garden of one of the mansions and crossed the next street over into the beginnings of a mansion. It belonged to my friend Quinn’s older sister, and would be finished exactly in time for her wedding in October. 

“How are we always on the run?” Pope managed to grumble as he and JJ boosted me up so I could reach the top of the brick wall and scrabble over.

Because it was Figure 8, the mansion had a guest house to accompany its twenty other rooms. A guest house with locks that hadn’t been finished yet, last time I’d been here. I hopped over the leftover paint cans in the backyard instead of moving around them and yanked at the white door as soon as I could. It yielded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Come on,” I hissed checking everyone off as they crossed the threshold. Kie, Sarah, Pope, John B, and JJ. I grabbed hold of JJ’s shirt and yanked him out of view of the windows, one of which was covered with a filmy tarp whose upper right hand corner flapped in the gentle August breeze. Behind us, more tarp obscured most of the kitchen counters from our view, and tools I couldn’t name littered the floor.

My heart pounded at my chest, making my movements far harsher than they needed to be, but JJ just held me closer to him and whispered soothing words in my ears. I wanted him to shut up so I could hear if Rafe had found us.

“I know you guys are here!” The bellow came from this street. I was sure of it. I locked eyes with Kie, who held Pope’s hand in a death grip. Her lip wobbled as much as my knees. An invisible clock ticked off erratic seconds as we waited for a sign that he’d found us. I didn’t know how many heartbeats passed before JJ felt it safe enough to lean against the wall behind us, dividing the kitchen from the living room.

Except it wasn’t a wall at all. It was the beginnings of one. And so, Figure 8 drove another knife through JJ’s back, as he crashed through the makeshift wall, sending wood planks and bricks clattering to the ground. An avalanche would’ve been quieter.

_Fuck._

“Maybe he didn’t hear?” Kie ventured, her voice barely above a whisper. The sound of a feral growl and muted but heavy footsteps shattered any hope. Sunlight blinded my eyes as the door ripped open, revealing a puffed up Rafe. 

We all stood for a moment suspended in amber where both my movements and thoughts came too slow for the threat in front of us.

It all shattered as soon as John B urged Sarah to run and crashed himself into Rafe’s body. They rolled and rolled, and JJ launched himself into the fight, landing a heavy blow to Rafe’s abdomen. I pushed Sarah further into the kitchen and prepared to help them, but Rafe kicked Pope off of him, dragged himself into the corner, and yanked a gun out of his jeans.

My legs froze, and I zeroed in on the end of the barrel.

“Yeah, that’s right. Get the fuck back, kids,” he snarled, emphasizing his words with the gun. JJ grabbed Pope’s shirt as they each took two generous steps back. John B planted himself to the ground.

I held my hands out as placating as I could manage. They shook anyways.

“Rafe,” I said slowly even though the words seared my already dry throat. “Rafe, there are too many people here.” His arms swiveled so that the gun now stared me down. “You can’t kill all of us. Put the gun down.”

“Hey, asshole. I’m right here, man,” JJ interrupted, fighting to be heard over my voice. “Yeah. I’m the one you’ve always wanted, isn’t that right?”

Rafe layered in his own wavering voice. “No. Shut up. I can do this. _She_ _’_ _s_ the reason the cops are even sniffing around me.” 

“Couldn’t beat me in a fight alone,” JJ continued as soon as Rafe’s eyes darted back to me.

“We can still get out of this. She said we could. And I’m going to do it. I’m getting us out,” he explained, but his arms shook.

“Well, now you can. Huh? Just look at me!” JJ ignored the meaning of anything Rafe was saying. He wanted an explosion, as long as it could be directed at him and only him. Too bad Rafe Cameron had never done anything with careful precision.

“Shut _up_!” he spat, his body and thereby the gun, shaking with the force of his shout.

It went off at the same time JJ called out my name.

My shoulder itched, and my head rang, but I turned my back on Rafe who’d been tackled by John B and Pope as soon as they’d had the chance. If JJ had been shot, I would kill Rafe myself. I studied his body, dreading finding red, but found only the soft golden haze he always harbored. But, he was looking at me with a gaping mouth and something that looked a little bit like horror. Something wet trickled down my arm. I looked down.

Oh.

_I_ had been shot.

My body crumpled.

The bullet had been filled with lava. A miniature volcano that lodged itself into my shoulder, or was it my arm, and decided it was the perfect terrain for an eruption. Someone was holding me. I wondered if the lava was burning them too. I blinked a few times. My name carried over the roar in my ears. Questions, too, but the voices cut in and out. 

I had been shot. I had been shot. Who was holding me? Why wasn’t JJ here.

“JJ?” I asked unsure if my voice was even strong enough to be heard by anyone but myself. “JJ!” I tried again. “JJ. _Please._ _”_

“I’m here, I’m here, B. I’m right here.” Oh. So those arms belonged to him. 

“He shot me,” I blubbered.

“I know. I’m so sorry. You’re going to be okay. Kie’s on the phone with the ambulance. They’re coming honey,” he soothed, pushing my hair out of the way.

 _Fuck_. I’d really been shot.

“Okay.” I said and repeated the word as I stared at him. His face blurred into a mix of soft yellow and red. Had he been shot too?

“Are you okay?” I asked and moved my other arm up to touch the smear of scarlet on his face, wincing as the volcano shifted at my movement.

“Hey, don’t move, baby. I’m ok. I’m ok,” he said in a warbly voice, wiping it off with his shoulder. Blood. It was blood. “Fuck, Kie are they coming or not!” 

“JJ?” I asked. My voice seemed like it had to go through a metal slide before it reached him. Too many loops. Too far a distance to travel before reaching his ears.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“Is…is it bad?” I tried to clear my uncomfortably thick throat.

“No. No, honey, you’re going to be fine. Promise. I’m going to get you out of here,” he assured me.

“Please. Please, be fine,” he said, voice cracking. At least I thought he did. The eruption in my shoulder grew too devastating for my body to endure awake.

I didn’t know who thought putting an alarm on an ambulance would be a good idea. I snapped at the voices around me to turn it off, but they wouldn’t listen. The only one that listened to any of my demands was JJ, whose fingers remained firm against mine the entire ride. He didn’t listen to the other voices either. Not when they told him to move or to let go.

The lights shone too bright. I wasn’t in the ambulance anymore. I didn’t really know where I was, but it wasn’t the ambulance and the lights were too bright. I groaned, my tongue grossly thin from dehydration in my mouth. JJ’s voice came from my side in an instant, asking me what I needed. I tried to protest when I processed what my mom said after.

_“_ _JJ, I know you_ _’_ _re trying to help, but I need you to wait outside before I say something I regret._ _”_

It didn’t work. I couldn’t hold on to consciousness long enough to pick out the salt she’d thrown on his wounds.

The lights were still too bright the third time I woke up. A dull heat throbbed in my left shoulder as I tried to move.

“What’s wrong, mija?” my mom’s voice came before her soft hands on my wrist.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I promised as I adjusted myself in the bed so I could survey my surroundings. Another bed sat empty across from me and the window showed me a glimpse of purple-pink evening sky. I tried to focus on the swirling colors, but forced myself to look at my own body instead.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” I asked.

“They’re all okay. Yes, baby. Sarah is staying with the Carreras for now, and Rafe was arrested. Does anything hurt?”

I looked up at the tiled ceiling and thought about it. Something heavy rested on my hand, but didn’t hurt per say. I didn’t want to look at it, I knew what it was, and I’d been…wary of needles since I’d first been introduced to them. My shoulder throbbed a bit when I moved but nothing horrible. In fact, only two things hurt. One: the memories that pounded against my head, all fighting to shut any other thoughts down. Two: the fact that I couldn’t speak to JJ because he wasn’t here.

“No, mamma. I promise I’m okay. Is JJ okay?” I searched the room for his red cap or another cup of water that would show me he was here and safe. She sighed.

“Yes, he’s okay. He came by for a bit, but he left,” she said, rubbing small circles on my hand and moving my hair out of my face with the other. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reach the memory I thought was real without cutting my fingers on the ones I knew for certain were.

“Did you…say something to him?” I angled my neck out of her reach and bit my lip to stop from showing her the pain.

“I just asked him to wait outside so I could get a moment alone with you,” she explained after a too long pause. I groaned. “Baby, I’m sure he’ll come back. Besides, you need rest, and the doctor wants to talk to you.”

The bullet had gone clean through the muscles in my arm. Dr. Mendez used some big word to describe it, but I’d registered that as far as gunshots went, I’d been pretty okay. I wouldn’t need to stay overnight, even though my mom insisted we stay, and after 2-6 weeks of light movement I’d be back to normal. My face thankfully remained stoic through it all. I didn’t scream once, nor did my lip tremble.

I’d fought both actions back the entire time, however.

JJ didn’t come back. Not later that night. Not the next day after I’d been sent me home with antibiotics and painkillers, and the pogues came to visit. Not even by the end of the week. All I’d gotten was a text that said he hoped I was doing okay.

_Bullshit._

I could be sad. The weights on my heart, and the thorns that wove themselves around my mind every time I thought about why he hadn’t come visit me looked a lot like sorrow, I was well aware. But the pain from all of that burned. Not quite the searing, high-noon heat of desert sand in the middle of summer, but…definitely late spring. And if I could choose between sad and mad, and if they both burned in the end, then I chose mad. I was mad. Because I had been the one in the hospital. He had no right to distance himself for whatever idiotic reason he chose this time. Protecting me from himself or not being able to handle it or whatever bullshit lies he was probably repeating to himself over and over.

I could choose. So, I was mad.


	12. Splinters, Crumbs, and Other Lifelines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JJ makes a confession and Bianca must deal with the fall out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't really have much to say for this chapter other than I would love to hear people's thoughts and commentary! always enjoy reading them :)

“I’m not ready for this to end,” Kie said, stretching in the ray of sunshine that graced her lawn chair through the palms.

Sarah snorted and shook her head. “Define ‘this’.”

I laughed. “Surely you don’t mean the reporters, Sarah Cameron?”

“Oh no,” Sarah shook her head sarcastically. “Why would I want to stop their incessant emails? They’re my biggest fans.”

“So, like, the Bahamas? Tell us more, Sarah Cameron! Tell us how you survived!” Kie asked and offered her clenched fist as a faux microphone.

“Oh, it was an absolute _dream_!” Sarah responded in an exaggeratedly-ditzy voice before crossing her leg over her knee. Kie met my eyes as she brought her hand back to herself and moved a curl behind her ear. It had been a check-in under the façade of a joke. John B had narrated the most epic moments to us plenty of times. They’d been picked up by a cargo ship the morning after the storm. Landed in Nassau and managed to find an elderly woman willing to take them in for a few weeks while they searched for the gold. Had a few too many narrow encounters with one of Ward’s business partners in the process until finally the SBI had stepped in and found the trail to both the gold and John B and Sarah.

But Sarah hadn’t divulged any information on what the experience had actually felt like. I understood why she wouldn’t tell me. We’d only just met, but I thought her and Kie had been close. Judging from the little quirk of her lips, Kie thought so, too.

“What are you going to do with your money, Kie?” I asked to take her mind off of it. She braced an arm behind her head and stared up at the cloudless sky.

“Well, first I’m going to book us a spring break trip,” she said. “That’s for fucking sure. Maybe Mexico? Or New York City. And then…then I’m going to graduate, travel the world, and open up a studio and sing all about it.” She paused to ensure the conviction of her dreams washed over us.

“What are you going to do?” she turned to me after a second. I blinked, thinking back to the night I’d negotiated my cut with JJ: 400k and a vacation. At the time, I’d meant for us to go together, but it was obvious I’d been too presumptuous. So, it seemed I’d only be getting my money, which still felt a lot for college, even with inflation. I rolled my lip between my teeth.

“I’m going to take my mom and I on vacation,” I decided. “Anywhere she wants.” She’d made it to America out of curiosity and a desire to see the world. So she’d packed her bags one day and told my grandparents she was going on vacation, even though she’d left with no intention of ever moving back. These days, she visited far more places than the small town in Texas where she’d met my dad. My mom had traveled to every metropolitan hub for work, and she always found a way to make sure she satisfied her own wanderlust while on the job. But she hadn’t had the chance to choose her own trip and call all the shots in a while. I could give her that luxury again for her birthday.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Sarah curled on her side so she could look at me better, and shrugged off a lock of golden hair. “Are you two close?”

I thought about it. I knew I could trust my mom. I enjoyed spending time with her, I thought about how my decisions impacted her life often, and I loved her deeply. She’d done so much for me, how could I not? But I didn’t share my deepest desires with her, she didn’t know any of my troubles. Still, we were certainly closer than Kie and Sarah were with their parents, so I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I love her. And I do value her opinion, even if I sometimes disagree with it,” I nodded and changed the subject. “What are you going to do with your share?” 

“Me? I mean I’ll take some for this spring break trip, but I’m a trust fund baby. And I’ve got my own money,” she said with a seemingly unbothered wink.

“When this does end, though,” Kie said. “Can we get one of the tables with an umbrella for lunch?”

“Oh, you mean start a war with every single senior?” I asked. Kiara lowered her hot pink sunglasses so I could see her squinting at me, then Sarah. I adjusted the strap of my bikini, the same cherry red one that JJ had complimented over a week ago, as I waited for her rebuttal. 

“We can take them. We’re famous now,” Kie decided with a satisfied nod. “How many people DM’d you today, Sarah?”

“Like ten, and they’re all so fake,” Sarah responded, giving me an “is she serious?” look. I mouthed back that I thought so. 

“Well, sure. They’re fake. But they’ll want your approval, so they’ll give you a table. And once we’re there for a week, our names are basically on it. It’ll work. Trust me,” Kie said, slipping her sunglasses back on in satisfaction.

“I believe you, but if any of them try to hug me and act like they cared about what happened to me, _you_ have to take the hug,” I warned. Kie rolled her eyes, but agreed. She and Sarah strategized about who our greatest competitors would be, while I tried to suppress the one question I hadn’t dared to ask since they’d come over this morning. It had lodged in my throat every time I thought I’d finally get it out. 

“If I ask you guys how JJ is, you won’t tell him I asked, right?” I blurted out. I didn’t have to look at them to know they were sharing a loaded look.

“So he hasn’t said anything?” Kie ventured. I shook my head without meeting her eyes.

“Not since telling me he hoped I was ok. Been ghosting me ever since,” I said.

“He’s an idiot,” Sarah offered.

“I know. I just…is he okay?” I asked. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if he seemed hurt. If he’d felt the weight of the world increase by just a few pounds. If perhaps his arms had shaken under the newly required strength to hold it up like I had.

“He’s…okay. He and John B are living in the Chateau again, and my dad gave them an allowance as long as they come over for dinner,” Kie said carefully. “He’s…”

Finally, I looked at her. She and JJ were close, I knew. John B was so headstrong, and Pope always so direct. Kie and JJ had always shared a comfortable understanding, seeing details the others missed in each other. His friends could get the same information about him she did, they just had to work a little harder for it.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me what he told you. Just…is he…never mind. Never mind.” I shook my head. Whatever I said to her would surely get said to him.

And he’d shown me exactly what he thought of me. Or rather what he didn’t think.

“No, it’s just you two need to talk,” she said, and then she gave me a deeper look. “Like actually talk.” I frowned.

“Well, yeah that’s what I want to do!” I snapped a little too harshly.

“I know. I know. I’m just saying,” Kie said throwing her hands up immediately. Sarah intervened.

“Okay, okay. Bianca and JJ will talk once he gets his head out of his ass,” she said, looking between the two of us. “Can we get one last swim in before I have to go?”  
  


A knock interrupted my attempt at completing summer homework later that afternoon. I frowned. It didn’t have the same weight as my mom’s usual knock, but I urged her to come in anyways. The door opened, revealing the idiot blond that had lived in my head for the past week instead of between my arms. The rolled sleeves of his black button down framed his golden biceps nicely, and his legs looked longer in light-wash jeans. They were ripped up and sported a grease-stain near the pockets, but jeans, nonetheless.

I shut the book I’d been trudging through, Great Expectations, and adjusted my oversized t-shirt.

“Hey, your mom let me in,” he said, voice soft. I nodded, but didn’t say anything. “Can I come in?” I nodded again.

He didn’t move.

“Yes.” He walked in.

My room suddenly seemed too small. None of the domestic solace it had provided us earlier in the summer remained. Instead, he walked past my bookshelf and positioned himself in front of my bed, Vans-clad feet shoulder width apart. I narrowed my eyes for a fraction of a second at the hole in his right foot, before meeting his eyes. He cleared his throat and loosened his stance when he followed my gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“The window of opportunity you had to ask me that has passed, JJ. What do you want?” His jaw feathered, and his feet shuffled as if he wanted to move them again. I wondered if he wanted to move closer to me or to shift them back to their initial, fighting stance.

“Ok, fine. Fine. I came here to talk to you,” he said, and I quirked my eyebrow up and down caustically. He huffed. “I came here to tell you why I disappeared.”

“I know why you disappeared. Cause my mom told you to wait outside and you _ran,_ ” I spat.

He blinked. “Er, no. I mean, yeah that happened, but she’s not why I left. Look, B, I…I don’t know why, why everyone in my life is always trying to hurt me, but I know it affects the people around me too. You fought for me this entire summer. Got shot at twice, and it ended with you in the hospital. I…I had to get away from you.” If I didn’t have a week’s worth of fury and maybe heartbreak crackling beneath my skin, perhaps I might’ve melted into a pool of melancholy at his conviction about the people in his life.

“I know you, JJ. I know that’s exactly the bullshit you were thinking. I chose to be there. I chose to fight for you. You didn’t do this to me, so stop punishing yourself for the fact that people are fucked. I’m tired of it,” I said. “The only thing _you_ did was leave me alone when I was in the hospital and…and… You left.” I finished. His lips twitched, but he gave me a second in case I had more to say before responding. 

“It’s not just that, B. I know that was shitty. I do, and I’m sorry I left you alone. Really, _really_ fucking sorry, but that’s not all,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what, JJ?” I huffed. I sucked in a sharp breath of air and released it. I was tired. Tired of spending my nights alone, and not being able to call him or text him or hear his stupid jokes. So I would drag us out of this pit of despair he’d landed us both in. “Do you think I don’t deserve the chance to feel love? Do you think I don’t deserve the chance to be free? If you think it’s best to run, you also think I don’t deserve the chance to do those things. And I do. And I will. With you. So…” I looked at his cornflower blue eyes and the lighter resting comfortably in his palm. “So shut up and kiss me. Please.”

“I want to.”

A shot of ice rushed through my veins.

“I really want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and have everything be better,” he said. It was only the beginnings of a confession, though, and I suddenly wasn’t sure I could handle the rest.

“Then do it, JJ.” My voice came too small. 

“Bianca,” he said my name somehow loving and exasperated at the same time. I didn’t like it. “You couldn’t even finish your sentence just now. Did you actually want to say that I left? Or did you want to say that maybe you were in the hospital and needed me, wanted me there with you?”

My lips parted for a second. His sad smile told me he didn’t need my confirmation.

“I know you know me. Because I’ve shown you who I am. I’ve…” he cleared his throat and pocketed his lighter. “I know I fucked up. I was an ass. But I’ve known you for a year, B, and I’ve seen you cry once for a total of one minute. In the past two months, you’ve seen me break down more times than I can count. I’ve let you pull me back from the edge of every single cliff this island has.”

I blinked. This wasn’t how I’d imagined this conversation going. My chest felt hollow as I asked my next question. “What…what does that mean?”

“It means you have given me crumbs for a year, and I’ve taken them. I’ve analyzed them every singly way I can to get to you, and I do know you. But I want to see the full picture without any of the cracks or smudges you show everyone else. And you’ve never given me that,” JJ explained. I could feel the fire in his voice despite the distance he’d placed between us.

I fought the urge to curl my knees to shield myself from it. It would only prove his point. So, I settled on grabbing my book and placing it on my lap. I ran my nail over the edge of the pages, allowing the quiet feathering to fill the silence between us, and scanned the room I knew like the back of my hand, hoping something new would pop up and give me a better reason to look away.

JJ took the opportunity to slowly approach me, watching my face for any sign that he shouldn’t. He placed his hand under my chin, always so warm, and tilted it up so I could look at him and the tentative smile he offered me. Rarely, could that word be used to describe JJ Maybank, and yet, here we were.

“Look, I…love you. Fuck. I am in love with you, Morales. And, like, I’ll be honest. Every cell in my body is screaming at me not to say that out loud. Every fucking one. But I am. And I…I want to know you. As you are.”

He should’ve never come closer. I should’ve shoved his gentle, burning hands away. Because with his fingers on my chin, he could certainly feel my jaw tense even if by some miracle his eagle eyes hadn’t caught it. With his body so close to mine, there was no way he couldn’t feel my own turn to stone, even as I fought to open my mouth and return every sentiment he’d offered me. And with my chin tilted up, he had the perfect view of me swallowing the words he wanted to hear back and every variation that might’ve saved this moment between us.

He should’ve kept his fighting stance like he had his entire life. Because without trying, I’d landed a killing blow.

JJ’s fingers left my skin. He rubbed them on his jeans. Jeans I knew without a doubt he’d worn because he knew how I felt about the cargo shorts, and he’d wanted all the help he could get to win back my favor. He cleared his throat and took a step back.

“Got it.” The painful bob of his throat sent a knife through my chest. I didn’t open my mouth to show that it stung. “Guess, I should’ve…nevermind. I’m going to go.” By the time he’d finished his sentence his feet were halfway through the door.

My body sagged the second the front door closed. My lip wobbled, too, but I bit down on them harshly. If there was a knife in my chest, there was a sword through his. Leaning back on my suddenly too soft comforter, I flipped through all the memories I’d had of pouring my heart out to JJ. Or had harbored the illusion of doing so.

It didn’t take long. In the kitchens, when I’d told him I worked because I’d never stopped thinking about money. In the Chateau, when I’d only said I shouldn’t be crying and that I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I got older. All fragments of the truth. Again and again. Each once-over shoved the knife deeper into my chest.

I shot up finally. If I continued like this, I’d break down. Even after all that, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I stood and snatched my water bottle from my nightstand before running down the stairs. My mom sat at the dinner table, steadily painting her nails with the same French pedicure she’d sported since she’d first learned as a teen.

“I take it, it didn’t go well?” she asked, never pausing her steady strokes.

“No, Mama. I broke his heart,” I snapped. She hummed. I squinted. “Aren’t you going to tell me to go after him and tell him I love him? I thought you and him were BFFs.” She inhaled, pretending to check for any smudges before speaking. There wouldn’t be any. There never were.

“Well. I do think he’s a good kid. But, he’s angry, baby. Luke Maybank is dangerous. And apparently so are the people on this island that JJ’s involved with,” she said carefully and finally met my gaze. My features pinched into a horrified scowl.

“Yes, Luke. Not JJ,” I said. “How can you even say that?”

“That stuff, it changes you. Especially that young. I don’t blame him for being angry or getting into all this trouble, I really don’t,” she said and flattened her palm against the tables to impress her sincerity upon me. I believed her. I believed she really thought she was right, but I couldn’t agree.

“I know, mom. I know that stuff changes people. But he’s not…he doesn’t want to hurt anybody.” I shook my head.

“Mija, he’s his son. It may not stop there is all I’m saying, and it’s good to be careful,” she said with a gentle shrug.

“So, what? JJ is corrupted. Just because his dad hit him? If you think he’s beyond…beyond gentility because of that, then you also think I am. We have the same history,” I said and cast my hand out to the side in disbelief. She shook her head, unfazed by the suggestion.

“Baby, you’re different.”

I stared at her.

I’m not different I wanted to say. I am angry, too. I’d had to take care of myself and never talk about how I felt. Good grades and a level head. I’d had to navigate my own schoolwork and the world outside of the house without her help because she either didn’t know or because I couldn’t add another burden. Forcing myself to grow up so she didn’t have to worry had hurt, too. Hurt so much that I’d spun my grief into a giant pile of fury that she still couldn’t see. 

But, you didn’t tell the person that had built you a raft and kept you afloat your entire life that it had still given you splinters without also driving a wooden stake through their heart. So the splinters stung beneath my fingertips and around my knuckles as I flexed them into fists, and my mom’s chest remained perfectly intact.

I didn’t say a word as I yanked my car keys out of the small ceramic bowl my grandma had brought back from Mexico and shut the door behind me.

I thought I’d drive to the ocean, where maybe the roar of the waves would overpower the scream building in my chest. Every neat row of mansions I passed shaved another layer of myself away. I smeared the wetness from my cheeks at a stoplight. If I just kept driving I’d find somewhere safe on this island. I had to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianca struggles to find a safe place and articulate her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this is mostly fluff and I'm not sure I like it in its entirety but here's the next part! Hope you enjoy and please please let me know what you thought once you're done reading

In this world of mansions and money, cracks just meant you replaced the offending object. With the sun bouncing off otherwise spotless estates, imperfections were easier to detect and the process of removal would be over in the blink of an eye. No one smart _ever_ broke on Figure 8. And even in my current state, that fact did not leave me.

So I drove deeper and deeper, farther and farther until I finally made it back to the place that had made me. On this side of the island, broken things were cared for because they could still be useful even with a few blemishes.

My own splintering fingers knew the path to him better than any other. So, I didn’t hesitate when I parked in front of the giant tree and the house with the perennial red string lights. I hopped out of the car and raced to the porch to knock on the door.

JJ opened it with a wrinkle on his forehead I couldn’t help but feel guilty about.

And because I was on the Cut and with JJ, where cracks were patched up or painted over, I didn’t bite my lip to keep it from wobbling. I let him see my watery frown and the streaks of saltwater on my cheeks. I shook my shoulders out once the way he did when he was preparing for turmoil, and before he could tell me to leave, I opened my mouth.

“I’m not sad, I’m angry,” I clarified for the boy I loved on the porch. He blinked slowly.

“Okay. With me?” he asked, flexing ring-clad fingers on the edge of the door. I let out a frustrated groan even though I had no right.

“No. I mean, I _was_. But no. Not anymore. I’m…mad. I’m mad,” I repeated to him as tear after tear hissed that I was a liar. “I’m mad. Because she, she doesn’t understand that I am…”

“Look, B, it’s fine. It’s okay to be mad. Or hurt. It’s okay if you’re sad,” he said seriously but didn’t reach out to touch my shoulders or my cheeks like he normally would.

“I know. I know in my head that’s true,” I said, my breathing coming quicker as the tears grew stronger. “But I’m so _angry_!” I finally sobbed. “I’m so mad that…that I had to take care of myself. That he ever hurt her. That I s-sometimes miss the parts of him that I remember. Why can’t I ever just…I dunno. I’m so sad. And mad. And _fuck_!”

He closed the door behind him and stepped out to listen to me. I tightened my hands and unfurled them to rake them through my hair. None of this was going according to plan. Not that there had been much to begin with. Just an urgent conviction of my feelings and a quickly fleeting hope that I wasn’t too late.

“You were right, okay? I mean look at me, none of what I just said makes any sense! I’ve never told anyone what I actually think, and shit, I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry for thinking you were running when I gave you my stupid fucking crumbs, JJ, I –” My voice broke off as he gently unfolded my arms, which had wrapped around my middle when my crying really began to overwhelm me. The tears only came more violently as he instead slipped my hands around his sides and brought me into the safety of his embrace. JJ looped his own arms around the back of my neck, pressing my face securely into his chest, and whispered that it was okay over and over as I sobbed.

My fingers dug into the flesh of his back, scrunching up the fabric of his Pelican Marina t-shirt as each second passed by. JJ didn’t urge me to stop and I didn’t quite feel like I could or wanted to yet, so instead I burrowed my head deeper into his shirt as another wave of tears dragged me deeper underwater. Like that night of the storm, his arms sealed the cracks in my skin, only this time I’d shown him the canyons beneath them first. 

When I could finally breathe, I kept my chin tucked against the crook of his arms. Because I had one more thing to tell him, and I didn’t want to say those words with bleary eyes and a stuffed up nose. I couldn’t prolong it any longer, though. My shock at hearing them for the first time had been enough. So I pulled back enough that I could look him in the eye.

“Oh.” I took a giant, horrendous sniff. “And I love you. I am in love with you, JJ Maybank. And I think I will be for a long time. Even when you steal my fries or tell me pool water is cleansing, I will love you. A lot. So I really hope you can forgive me for not being able to say it earlier, and still love me.”

He gave a short but hearty laugh that came straight from his belly and gathered the end of his shirt so he could wipe the dribble of snot from beneath my nose. I frowned in embarrassment, but disgust didn’t mar a single one of his features as he swiped the fabric against my cheek. “Of course I still love you, you idiot. You have no fucking clue.” 

If I’d had any more water in me, I might’ve cried again. Instead, I pushed myself on tiptoes so I could press as clean a kiss to his lips as possible. “Like I said, I love you. But please don’t put that shirt back on.” I grabbed hold of his hand as he lowered the hem.

“Oh?” he waggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s filled with my snot now, JJ,” I said.

“If you want me to take my shirt off, Morales, all you have to do is ask,” he ignored me and pulled the shirt over his neck. I shook my head softly and averted my gaze to the closed front door.

“Is John B home?” I knew he was nice, but I didn’t exactly want him to see me like this. JJ followed my gaze and understood my implication.

“Oh no, he’s with Sarah. I, uh, I came out here because I wasn’t sure I’d take you back.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell myself there was a chance I might not,” he said with a sheepish smile and opened the door so I wouldn’t dwell on it too much. The lights in the bathroom of the Chateau didn’t pull any punches. Their stark brilliance, so much worse than the forgiving living room lamps, illuminated my puffy eyes and the worried tip of my nose. I splashed some water on my face, blew my nose one last time, and ran a few fingers through my hair. It was the best I could do with only the two toothbrushes and toothpaste at my disposal. When I emerged, he still hadn’t put a shirt on and was staring at the ceiling from the couch. I curled up with my head in his lap and took a swig of the water he’d set on the table for me as his arm settled in the crook of my waist.

“What did she say?” JJ asked, tracing his knuckles back and forth on the patch of exposed skin by my hip. I bit my lip. I wanted to be honest with him. But JJ didn’t need to hear every detail that might also hurt him.

“She…just thought I should be careful with you. In general,” I ventured and paused to see his reaction. His thigh shook beneath my head as he gave a low laugh.

“Well, that’s true,” he agreed.

“I’m always careful,” I said, wrinkling my nose at him when he rolled his eyes. “And she…she doesn’t think I’m angry or sad about my dad. She thinks I turned out perfectly fine, and that’s not true at all.”

“Like, I hope my dad is rotting somewhere. Not dead, I want him miserable. But, I still have memories of him that I can’t let go of. And sometimes I miss being able to trust the feelings I had in them.”

“Like with the bike,” he said more than asked. 

“Like with the bike.” I nodded.

“I tried to kill mine,” he said. “But, sometimes, he’ll say sorry and he just looks so…miserable that I almost believe him. But he doesn’t give a shit.”

“And?” I asked because I could hear the beginnings of something more. He looked down, blue eyes pinning me to the couch.

“And I don’t think your dad gives a shit either, wherever he is. But I think it’s going to be a while before we don’t.”That was probably true. I didn’t think time would ever heal me. At least not properly, but it could give me something like an anesthetic. I was only 16. There were still plenty more years for me to not give a single shit about my father. I hummed my agreement.

“Don’t you want to get out of here, JJ?” I asked after a beat of silence. His chest rose with his sucked in breath.

“Yeah,” he released it. “Yeah, I want to get the fuck away from this place.”

“What do you want to do then? Like, really want to do. Not what you think you can do.” He worried his lip because this was the question. With some scrounged up savings he could get off this island and find work good enough to survive. But, that wasn’t the end of the line like he allowed himself to believe. He could get off the island and go somewhere too.

“I mean all the places Kie talks about, I think I want to see them too. Mexico hands down. I…I want to see Hollywood. I want to see all the places people made movies. Tokyo, obviously, cause Tokyo Drift.” I forced myself to hold in my amusedscoff, but he looked down at me with a grin.

“Go ahead, I know you want to,” he said, and I shook my head, allowing myself the tiniest exhale of air through the nose.

“Go on, go on. Tokyo would be very cool.”

“Yeah. I want to go there. And I don’t know how. Not exactly much good at anything but working with my hands.” I grabbed them in my own and traced the lines on his palms, circling around each callus.

“You could be an actor,” I said and doubled down after his scoff. “I’m serious. You could be an actor, or work with cinematography. You’re good at telling stories. And you’re persuasive. You could surf. You could set up your own mechanic shop. You could, JJ. You could do a lot of things.” My fingers laced through his, and I tugged our hands down to my heart.

“Thanks, B. I’ll figure it out,” he shrugged. “What about you, huh? Gonna be a big lawyer?”

“I want to go to all those places, too,” I said. “And no, I don’t want to be a lawyer. The law is cool, but if this summer and my mom have taught me anything, it’s that it’s not always made to help people. I don’t want to defend people from predatory laws. I’d want to make sure they’re good in the first place.”

“Woah, so like president?”

“No, not president. Or any elected office. Not my vibe. Maybe a non-profit or something, I’m not sure yet,” I confessed. I wish I could tell him more, but it was the truth and that’s what he’d asked of me. “When I was little, though, I wanted to open a bakery. My own shop in New York or LA.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhmm. Everything was going to be pink, even the flour,” I said proudly.

“You were cute back then,” he said. I frowned and pulled myself up on my knees.

“What do you mean? We met at the clubhouse.” He squinted at me, furrowing his brows along with it, before reaching a conclusion.

“Wow, you don’t remember! Preschool, you went to school on the Cut with us. We weren’t in the same class, but I’d see you at recess with Jonathan Greensborough,” he said.

“Jonathan Greensborough,” I repeated, dragging out his last name with a smile as I remembered my infatuation with my then-steady boyfriend. “Wow. He and I did everything together.”

“Hey, this is about me!” JJ interrupted, waving his hand in front of my reminiscent face. “You _forgot_ about me.”

“Ok, we were like 5, JJ,” I gave him a long look, but he sniffed and folded his arms.

“I remember you and your pigtails. But whatever. Guess Jonathan was more memorable,” he grumbled. I placed a small kiss on his lips to distract him.

“What else do you want to know?” I asked softly.

“Anything?” he opened one of the eyes he’d shut in retaliation the moment he’d seen me aiming for a kiss.

“Anything.”

“What’s the sexiest thing about me, go.”

I pulled away from him with a snort, but he gave me a serious look that told me I had promised. “Fine. Sexiest thing about you?” I inhaled knowing this would go to his head. “Your arms. When you’ve rolled your shirt sleeves up with the bowtie. And after a shift, when you take your button-down and vest off, and it’s just your white t-shirt that’s a little too tight around your arms and it’s…yeah, ahem, your arms.” One side of his mouth pulled up in satisfaction, and he playfully shoved me away.

“Wow. You’ve had that image in your head for a while, huh, B?” he teased. I swatted his side.

“Now me.”

JJ licked his lips. “Well, your hair is always great. I like it under the sun,” he told me and wrapped a lock around his finger before letting it spring loose. I didn’t miss the extra flex of his bicep as he did so.

“So, there’s that. And your legs. Especially in these shorts, but probably without them, too.” He said, rubbing a line of fire up the curve of my calf until his hand caught in the crook of my knee. He tugged gently while moving his chest closer and closer to mine until I had no choice but to extend my legs and lay back on the pullout.

One of his hands settled to support his weight by my head and the other traced the outline of my thigh, my waist, all the way up until his fingers rested against my chin. I swallowed.

His eyes flashed to the movement.

“Your throat,” he said with a tilt of his chin if I’d just made a compelling point, and teased at my bottom lip with his thumb until it puckered out. “The real killer, though, is your lips. When you’re mad, and they smush together. When you laugh at my jokes. The kisses are okay.” He shrugged with a suppressed grin. I tipped my head back to release a short laugh, and then fixed him with as severe a scowl as I could manage.

“Ooh, that was two in one,” he said as he continued to lower his face.

“No, kiss though. Not if they’re only okay,” I said a little breathlessly as if it were a shame now that his face was mere inches from mine.

“No kiss then,” he whispered against my lips before taking them in his.

It turned out, the red string wasn’t a string at all, but a web of wires all across my body. And that night he showed me how to lose control of every single one.


	14. Ashes, Ashes, I'll Only Fall if It's With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer has ended. JJ and Bianca wish it goodbye with a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so this has taken me forever to write but I think this is the end! if you've read this and left me feedback please know how much that has meant to me. thank you for caring about jj and Bianca. I definitely could've spent more time editing but I just felt like finishing it and sharing. This chapter is from JJ's POV and I will not lie his inner monologue is fairly dramatic at times I could not help myself. I hope you enjoy :)

Bianca was wearing a little white dress in the lobby of the police station when I walked out of their tiny interrogation room. She was prim and polite with the lawyer, Mr. Laurens, her mom got us, shaking his hand and asking him how his kids were.

I liked him. No bullshit and from the way he talked to me, I could tell he wasn’t just doing this to look good. Sure, he’d cut himself a small portion of the gold money when he heard the FBI had decided it belonged to us, but I would’ve too and it wasn’t nearly as much as I would’ve asked for. Honestly, I would’ve paid way more just to see him shut Officer Porter down every single time the asshole brought up the fact that we’d “broken and entered” into a few places and “obstructed justice”.

Justice was _their_ job. It wasn’t our fault our presence had been enough to obstruct them from doing it well. And by the fourth time, Laurens made Shoupe put him on timeout in the hall.

Fuck, it was beautiful. Worth every penny.

As soon as he left, though, she leapt into my arms. I laughed and twirled her around. For once, things were going according to plan.

“So?” she asked, smoothing out her dress the moment I set her back down.

“Oh it was amazing, B. Laurens made Porter go red. You should’ve seen it,” I said, shaking my head and whistling as we left the station. Every breath came easier with each step I took away from it.

She rolled her eyes, brushing a baby hair out of her face. “How did it _go_ , JJ? What did Mr. Laurens say? What did Shoupe say? Is it what they needed?”

“Oh, for sure. Ward and Rafe will put up a fight, but we’ve got more witnesses on our side, including Sarah. And like you said, they didn’t hide it well,” I told her as I tossed her work uniform into the back of her Jeep and hopped into the passenger seat.

Patches of sunlight coming through the leaves above us caught in her smile from the driver’s side. I wanted to take a picture. Tell everyone else in the world to stop for just a second so I could remember the details better.

But summer had ended, and so did the moment.

She pulled out of the parking spot and drove us to the Chateau. My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from John B, and I tugged it out. He’d gone to pick up Sarah sometime before I left and apparently still wasn’t home. We’d tried to get her to move to the Chateau with us, but she’d stayed. Really, now that Rose was the sole decision maker for the Cameron real estate company and the estate, she was harmless. Plus, Sarah would never leave Wheezie.

“Want a smoothie?” I asked her. “John B’s getting some with Sarah so they’re going to be late.”

“Mm, nah, I’m good,” she said, flicking her braid across her shoulder. I typed out a ‘no thanks’ without taking my eyes off of her. She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Just looking,” I said innocently. She opened the door and hopped out, allowing the skirt of her dress to hike up just a little higher than necessary.

“Is looking all you plan to do?” she asked with a sweet bat of her eyelashes before she slammed the door in my face, speeding up when she heard me call after her with a laugh.

“Why not just leave it like that? Looks fine to me,” I asked, as Bianca sat back up and tugged her hair tie out. She kept her hand clamped around the end of her hair and squinted at me, before swiping up on her phone to look at herself in the camera.

“No way,” she said, using her other hand to lift one of the strands that had essentially come all the way out. “This? No, there’s an art to the messy braid, and this does not fit the criteria, JJ. It’s coming out.” She said, threading her fingers through the leftover braided portions and fluffing it out across her back once she was done.

“Well, can I try?” I asked, sitting up. She turned to me.

“Do you even know how?”

“Yeah, Kie taught me,” I told her and dragged her closer to me on the bed until I could put my chin on her shoulder.“Pleaseeee?”

“Fine, but if you ruin my hair, I’ll kill you.” I didn’t answer her, instead concentrating on remembering the steps right and not tearing a patch of her hair out. Kie _did_ teach me.

It just happened to have been in sixth grade.

Bianca was nice enough to keep the final product in, even when everyone showed up, and we headed out to the marsh. It wasn’tbad enough they’d say something about it, which only made it worse for her. They’d think she was just having a slightly off hair day, and go on with their day.

“So, what did you tell your mom you were doing today?” I asked her. We’d anchored in a clear spot and were sprawled out sunbathing at the helm. She lifted her head up from my shoulder to frown in confusion. “You know, ‘cause you worked this morning?”

“Oh.” She settled back against my arm. Then she gave a little laugh and shook her head to herself. “Apparently, she always knew. Or, has known for a while, and has been letting me sneak around just to see how clever I got with it.”

I snorted as Kie let loose a string of laughter.

“Seriously?” Pope asked and tossed her the beer she’d made a grabbing motion for with her hands.

“Yup,” she said, popping the p and taking a swig after I opened it for her with my keys. “One of the women at the club, you know Mrs. Demarco? She’s apparently better friends with my mom than I thought, and called her the first time we sat her to tell her how nice I was.”

“Fucking Demarco,” Sarah said with a whistle.

“What an ass,” I chimed in with a shake of my head.

“Total bitch, right?” Bianca agreed. A beat passed before we all burst into laughter. “Shit, she’s an angel, and I’m a horrible person.”

“Yeah, you’re going to hell for that,” I said. A poke came at my side, and I jolted into John B.

“You said it first, asshole!” Bianca screeched.

“He didn’t call her a bitch though. That’s harsh,” John B reminded her and shoved me closer towards her again.

“I hate all of you,” she grumbled even as she curled deeper into my side.

“The fuck did I do?” Pope demanded. Her face softened.

“You’re right. Pope, you can stay. Everyone else has to go.”

“But – ”

“Oh don’t even try it, Kie, we both know you were going to talk shit,” Bianca interjected with a pointed glare at Kiara who was trying unsuccessfully to hide her smirk behind an innocent mask.

Pope tugged her up before she could say anything back and a spray of warm water hit my chest as they jumped into the marsh, quickly followed by John B and Sarah to play a game of chicken. Bianca stretched her limbs and turned her head to me. I brushed the salt-soaked strands of hair covering half her face away and smiled when she crinkled her nose at me to say ‘hi’.

I knew tomorrow was only getting closer and the horizon behind us had a million other things to show. But Bianca was here, caught in the dying of the sun, and I knew if it didn’t rise tomorrow, I’d be okay. As long as she kept looking at me like that, I could let go of its warmth and make a home in her midnight gaze.

My eyes tracked the half-formed curl that slid off the slope of her shoulder as she flattened it against the boat’s deck, revealing the scar from her bullet wound. She’d tell me it was a bullet graze if I mentioned it aloud, or demand a kiss and joke that she’d taken a bullet for me if I hesitated.

Bianca didn’t like to think about it much, unless it was sarcastically. Like she was trying to show me she could say it, she owned it. But she didn’t like to dwell on it. It wasn’t that difficult to figure out why when I’d been doing the same thing my whole life. Bianca gave me what thoughts of hers she could, and that was enough.

I dwelled. I searched and analyzed and seared every millisecond of those few minutes of hell to figure out what exactly had gone wrong. And I always came back to the same spot: _“_ _She said we could still get out of this._ _”_

Rafe Cameron was a waste of life. A worthless piece of shit and responsible to the fullest for every single one of his decisions. But behind him, I was convinced Rose Cameron had pushed him off the edge.

Wheezie wouldn’t tell him that. Rose would. Rose, who had to have known how much Rafe wanted to fix things for his family. Rose, who would have the entire Cameron estate and finances to herself if both Ward and Rafe ended up in jail. Rose, who always got what she wanted.

Rafe had pulled the trigger, sure, but Rose’s hands had never been clean, and there wasn’t much I could do to get back at her for it.

At least, not much else.

I blinked twice as Bianca rubbed her thumb against the wrinkles in my forehead and forced the frown off of my face.

“Look, I know school is starting in like two days, but I was wondering if you’re free this Saturday?”

“JJ Maybank. Are you asking me on a date?” she teased with a poke to my cheek. I faked biting the tip of her finger.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ll pick you up at 6:30. Wear something nice.”

“I’ll see if I can pencil you in,” she said.

“God, you’re a comedian,” I drawled, only dragging her closer the moment she tried to pull away with a fake scowl.

She hid her laughter in the crook of my neck, and I hid what was left of my anger in the kiss to her forehead. 

Bianca's dress looked more like a river than a dress. I reached up to make sure I’d buttoned everything right one last time as if it would actually do anything. Not when the misty blue silk, it had to be some fancy shit like silk, rippled elegantly over every curve with each step she took. She’d pulled her hair back into a slick, supermodel ponytail so that her silver hoops and smile were on full display as she walked out of her house to meet me.

I couldn’t tell which I liked better. The bold red lipstick she’d fought Rafe in back when we were just beginning or the sparkly gloss she had on now.

“Shut up.” She shook her head, the ends of her ponytail swishing in and out of view from behind her back.

“Oh, I shouldn’t say anything?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning back against my bike.

“Nope, nothing,” she said sarcastically. Her grin grew wider and wider with each step she took towards her Jeep. “You look good, though. Really, really good, babe.”

“Yeah?” She nodded honestly. “But I shouldn’t say anything right?”

“Oh, no.”

“Got it. Okay, so like, I shouldn’t say anything about how fucking gorgeous you are?”

“I don’t think you should,” she said, all fake sincerity. We stopped in front of the passenger door. My hand found her waist.

“Ok. Then I probably shouldn’t say that blue is really your color. Or how much I love you, either?” I stopped her from whispering a ‘no’ with my lips. She pulled back first, and I lowered my forehead to hers.

Then I snatched her keys out of her manicured nails.

“Hey!”

“I’m driving tonight. My date!” I pleaded more than said it. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, but I knew I had her.

“Fine. But if you hurt her, I’ll kill you,” she said and tugged the passenger door open from behind me.

“A little faith, Morales,” I called over my shoulder.

I didn’t have to look at her to see the moment she tensed.

“What are we doing here?” Bianca asked, narrowing her eyes at the twinkling lights lining the club’s patio visible from the parking lot.

“Dinner and maybe some dessert, if you’re nice to me,” I said and unbuckled my seatbelt.

“JJ, it’s 7 pm on a Saturday. Rose’s weekly gossip sesh? She’ll just kick you out again,” she frowned and reached across the console to grab hold of my wrist.

“Relax, B. Do you see her Bentley? No. We’re good,” I said. She didn’t let go. “Babe. Can you trust me for a second? I’ve got this. Planned it out, okay?” She smushed her lips together to contemplate it, and I leaned over to smack another kiss to them. “Trust me.”

Finally, she let me open the door. The moment we walked into the lobby, she straightened her back and hardened her gaze. I squeezed her hand once, and Patty just smiled at us from the front desk.

“Hi, kiddos, your table is all set. Come on in!” she said. Bianca didn’t say anything as she walked through the door to the dining area first. Empty seats greeted her blazing gaze. Her grip on my hand loosened in confusion, just as Patty caught my eye with a wink.

She was so shocked she didn’t say anything when I pulled her chair out with her. She plopped down and took the menu she didn’t need from Patty with a mumbled ‘thank you’.

“I rented it.” I finally told her, and couldn’t help the smug smile that came over me as her confusion morphed into a big, old shit-eating grin. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” I said, spreading my arms wide as she threw her head back suddenly to let out a cackle.

“Oh, she’s probably dying right now. Does she know it was you?”

“Yup. According to Patty, she screamed for two minutes when she heard there was a reservation under Maybank for the entire restaurant. So, yeah, she knows,” I told her. She pretended to dab tears from her eyes.

“Fuck, I love you,” she said shaking her head proudly. I winked.

“Yeah, I’m a gift.” She surveyed the empty tables again, then the lack of stains on my shirt, and her lips slowly flattened.

“JJ, how are you paying for this?”

“I’m a millionaire, baby g, don’t worry about it,” I said.

“Okay, call me ‘baby g’ ever again and you’ll be a millionaire without a girlfriend,” she said, laying the menu flat across the silverware to emphasize her point. I rolled my eyes. 

“Sarah loaned me the money until the paperwork for the gold gets finalized. Order all the oysters you want, B,” I said. She gave me an exaggerated pout like when she showed me the pictures of puppies and ducklings being friends, processing all the steps the pogues and I had taken to make this happen.

“So you’re finally going to try one?” she asked once she was able to move past it. I exhaled, but nodded.

“I’ll try one,” I said with a shudder. “A _bite._ _”_ She beamed at me once more and went back to the menu, even though she already knew it by heart.

The oyster practically slithered down my throat. Fucking disgusting. Bianca laughed so hard, I thought she’d cough hers back up. By the time I managed to stop shivering at the memory of the texture, though, she was halfway done with the rest, and I ordered some mozzarella sticks instead. I hadn’t heard her laugh like that in a while, though, and I contemplated downing another one just to hear it again. Even through dessert – Bianca’s favorite berry cake and a slice of triple chocolate for me – I had to remind myself that I hadn’t just imagined it.

“Feels like we’re celebrities hiding from the paps going out the back entrance looking like this,” she said after we’d said goodbye to Nestor and Tommy in the kitchens.

“There is a trash can literally ten feet from you, B,” I said.

“And I’ll push you into it if you ruin my Hollywood dreams again,” she snapped. I shrugged, but looking down at her with that scowl, even if it was fake, I was reminded of the night I’d run from her. The dim lamplights against her dress shimmered differently than the reflection they’d given off of her glassy eyes that night. My heart beat fast against my chest for a completely different reason, too.

Beyond all of that, though, she was still so earnest. Sure, Bianca was good at hiding things, but despite all the shit I’d said to her this summer, I’d never really doubted that she cared. Deep down, I don’t think she did either. I grabbed her hand and tugged her closer.

“Fine, as long as I don’t have to sing and dance,” I agreed.

“Oh, look. Trash can’s only three feet away now!” she chirped.

“I’m going to hate losing you,” she told me fifteen minutes later. I nearly choked.

I’d driven us to the cove where we’d had our first kiss to look at the stars because I thought it’d be romantic – a way to relax before school started in a day. Not whatever the hell this was.

“The fuck you mean, Morales?” She only rolled her eyes.

“Come on. It’s illogical to believe we’re going to last past high school. It’s okay, we’re 16. But I’m…I know it’s going to hurt. I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. And I just want you to know that, while you’re here and it’s good enough that you won’t hate me for it.”

I barked out a laugh. “God, you’re an idiot sometimes. You’re not getting rid of me. Not at 18 or 60 or 98.”

She pushed her lips out into a pout. “Don’t make me break your heart, Maybank. Please, just break mine. It’s okay.”

“And how do you want me to break your heart, baby?” I asked her, running a finger down her bicep. She tilted her chin up towards the moon as she thought about it.

“I don’t know, you can lose interest. Say some really mean shit. Decide we’re better off friends. You can choose, just don’t cheat on me,” she ended with a serious finger in my face.

“Okay, well, I’m not down for any of those, so looks like it’s on you, B,” I told her with a shrug. She whined a soft and prolonged “no”, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not going to break it, babe.”

“Ugh, don’t say that, JJ,” she said dragging it out like it actually bothered her. I sighed and propped my knee on the other side of her hip, holding myself above her so she could see the sincerity in my face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you this one time, Morales. Let’s say Kie has killed Jeff Bezos off and is now acting CEO of Amazon. Let’s say pigs can fly, and your demon cat loves me. Let’s say we’re all fucked, alright?” I looked at her to make sure she was following, and she nodded dutifully that she had the scene pictured.

“’Mkay. We’re fucked.”

“Right. If and only if all of those things happen, and we’re probably better off apart, I’ll break your heart. Promise,” I said.

“You’re ridiculous.” She huffed, looking away to hide the quirk of her lips. I smiled and nudged her chin back so I could see her eyes.

“And you’re wrong about us,” I said. “But, honestly, if the world is really fucking burning, then I’ll just become ash with you.” She paused for half a second, letting my conviction wash over her.

With my head blocking out direct moonlight, her eyes lost any hint of brown. Instead, she looked up at me with emotional pools of black ink. I’d had one hand on their ledge this entire summer.

She blinked, slowly, and I let myself fall.

“That was disgustingly beautiful, you know that?”

I rolled off of her with a snort. “Whatever, you’re not the only one that likes to think they’re in a movie. Besides, it’s true. Ashes, baby. You and me.” I wrapped my pinky finger around hers and shook once to seal the deal.

“Okay,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “Ashes.” I’d kissed most of the gloss off her lips, but they were still soft against my cheek as she completed the promise. I turned my head to face her. She’d never completely believe me –her brain wouldn’t let her. But I could tell there was a part of her that could see that future for us. A future where the only fire that could take us down was one that had already taken the entire earth with it. And even then, we’d burn together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this story is the first time I have shared my writing with anyone and I only just told a friend about my original work and she mentioned multiple times that I looked like I was going to pass out. So if you've read this and even more so if you've kept up with it and told me how it made you feel thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring about jj and Bianca. please share your thoughts with me about the chapter/anything about the fic I would really appreciate it :)


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